


Inklings

by apartment



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Getting Together, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2019-06-13 09:03:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15360990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apartment/pseuds/apartment
Summary: Magnus has a thing for tattoos. He also has a thing for Alec.He runs his fingers over the ink lightly, brushing ever so slightly over Alec’s arm. Alec shivers under him, and Magnus freezes, suddenly aware of what he’s doing.He looks up, wide-eyed, and feels the temperature in the room skyrocket when he meets Alec’s gaze.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> there's a hashtag for this fic! tweet if you'd like with _#inklingsmalec_

Magnus has a problem. Well, he has many problems, including but not limited to the pasta sauce he’s trying and failing to make. But this problem? He has a name.

Alec Lightwood’s been living across the hall from Magnus for six months now. Magnus likes him. Like, a lot. Alec is everything Magnus wants in his life; he’s caring and kind, and he always offers up a bright smile when they run into each other.

At the beginning, when Alec knocked on Magnus’ door to ask for a favor or to borrow something, he was always unfailingly polite and sweet. And soon after, they developed a budding friendship.

Alec is witty and has a sarcastic streak a mile wide when you get him going. And he cares deeply about his family, a common topic of conversation for Alec—he often recounts with fond exasperation the chaos of his younger siblings, a sister and a brother.

And if his suit jackets are anything to go by, he’s successful too. Magnus isn’t surprised. Not with the way Alec thinks: intelligent, keen, and focused in everything he does.

Magnus can see it in every encounter he’s ever had with Alec. When Isabelle visits and Alec pulls her into a hug, quick but tight and consuming. When Alec heads out for work in the mornings, quiet and intense with his game face on. When he comes over, three smart knocks every time, and his eyes track Magnus’ movements as he talks.

Objectively, Magnus knows he’s got it bad. But he just can’t help it. Alec is like a storm--a controlled but brilliant storm--and the thunder of his presence sounding so close after the lightning strike that it shakes the ground you’re walking on. And Magnus is helpless to resist.

And then everything gets ten times worse. Or better, depending on how you see it.

Tonight, the pasta Magnus has ambitiously decided to attempt for dinner is leaving him in the dust. He bites back his frustration with a sigh, resigning the meal to sauce out of a bottle. It’s only Ragnor and Catarina he’ll be entertaining tonight, after all.

He’s just about to turn the stove off when someone knocks, three times. _Alec_ , Magnus thinks immediately, and checks his peephole to confirm. It _is_ Alec, and he’s dressed in a simple but tightly fitted black sweater.

May whatever deity is out there give him strength because lord knows he needs it.

Magnus swings his door open with a smile, trying to bite back a larger—more obvious—grin. “Alexander!” he greets, already charmed.

“Hey,” says Alec, his lips curving upwards. “Sorry to bother you.”

“No, no, no such thing. What can I do for you?”

“Just… do you have any like, Tupperware? Plastic containers, any kind. Izzy’s visiting tomorrow, and I need to send her home with _something_ to eat.” He chuckles, almost to himself.

Magnus does. And if his heart flutters a little at the thought of being able to help Alec with something, that’s no one else’s business. “Yes, of course,” he says finally. “I have some stashed away. God knows why, considering how little I find myself making my own meals.”

He leads Alec into his apartment, into his kitchen. “Still not much of a cooking person?” Alec asks.

Magnus shrugs as he opens his cabinets. “I’ll admit I’m ambitious… but perhaps out of unrealistic optimism. Here,” he points. “Top shelf. I need a chair to reach them, but I don’t know if— Maybe you can?”

The containers are on what’s probably the highest cabinet shelf in Magnus’ kitchen, above his fridge, and it proves a challenge even for Alec, who has to stand on his tiptoes to grab the stack. Alec’s sweater rides up ever so little, but it gives Magnus the perfect glimpse of the smooth skin of his hips.

Magnus’ mouth goes dry, and he swallows thickly. Alec clearly has a very, very nice body underneath the layers he’s always wearing, and Magnus definitely does not think about kissing his way down that torso until he’s mouthing that small sliver of skin he can see. _Definitely_ not.

He’s so distracted that when Alec grabs the Tupperware and turns back to Magnus, it takes him a moment to recover. “Yes! Great!” he croaks out. Magnus looks at the container in Alec’s hand, and that’s when he sees it.

 _Oh_ , Magnus thinks, choking on his spit a little bit. _Oh my god. Oh my god, he has—_

Tattoos. Alec’s sweater sleeve has risen a little on his arm, and peeking out from under it is the ink of a tattoo. No, not just _a_ tattoo. Tattoos, plural. They circle his wrist. Right off the bat, Magnus can identify two distinct ones—one in color and one of strict black lines.

Magnus’ brain short-circuits. Alec Lightwood has tattoos. And not just on his chest, or shoulder, or ankle. No, he has forearm tattoos. Sleeves, maybe.

“Yeah, thanks, I’ll make sure I get this back from Izzy and return it,” Alec says, oblivious to Magnus’ mouth literally watering. _Oh my god, he wants Alec’s fingers in his mouth so he can see the tattoos in front of his eyes as he sucks on them, and_ oh _, how far up do they go?_ _He wants those arms holding him down_ —

It takes Magnus a moment to reply, and when he finds his voice, it’s nearly an octave higher than normal. “Not at all,” he squeaks. “It’s just one box. You don’t need to return it.” Magnus clears his throat and waves dismissively. He hopes he’s not being obvious. But, by god, _tattoos._

“Thanks again, Magnus. I’ll see you later?” Alec makes towards the entrance of the kitchen, then pauses. “Oh, are you making pasta?”

Magnus smiles wryly. “Trying to, at least. The sauce is… Well, you can see for yourself.”

Alec peeks into the pot curiously. He stirs it a few times, then looks back at Magnus, gesturing vaguely at the stove. “Would you mind if I—?”

“Go right ahead.” Magnus joins Alec at the stove and leans against the counter, watching curiously.

Alec grabs the tasting spoon Magnus has been using and brings it to his lips. His eyebrows furrow in thought, and Magnus very forcefully tries not to think about the fact that his lips have touched that spoon, too. But a gleeful thrill shoots through him, and Magnus feels it in his toes.

“It’s not bad,” says Alec.

Magnus cracks a grin. “But it’s not good either.”

Alec shrugs. “It just needs some help. Something like…”

He watches in interest as Alec looks through his spice rack, pulling out oregano, basil, and chili powder.

“Wow, _alright_ , Master Chef,” comments Magnus dryly.

Alec laughs brightly, and Magnus can feel himself mirroring the mood; coupled with his general joy at being around Alec, he chuckles himself, unrestrained. This is already a night Magnus is going to think back on for a long time.

And then Alec pulls his sleeves up all the way to his elbows. Magnus repeats, he _pulls his sleeves up all the way to his elbows._

Magnus’ mind goes blank. He loses all semblance of words. Alec’s forearms are thick, strong. His wrists are sturdy. They look like the kinds of arms that could pin Magnus down and— _And god_ , the tattoos. The tattoos!

“I didn’t know you had tattoos,” Magnus manages. His voice sounds hoarse, and he licks his lips almost unconsciously.

“Hm? Oh, yeah.” Alec holds out an arm for Magnus’ inspection, turning it this way and that. He stirs the sauce idly with the other. It’s casual. This whole situation feels so domestic that Magnus’ heart pounds wildly. “You like them?”

He wants Alec to _rail_ him.

Magnus can feel his face heating up and counts his blessings that he’s not one to turn visibly red. He’s not usually this easily affected by anyone, honestly, but there’s something about Alec that pushes every one of his buttons: his face, his body, his _mind_ , his height, his hands, his _tattoos_.

“Um, yes,” he stammers finally. “Yeah, they’re really nice. They’re… better than nice, honestly. It’s— wow.”

“Thanks,” Alec grins. “I’m, uh, glad you like them.”

He grabs Alec’s arm around the wrist, bringing it up closer to inspect. “Is this chemical structure for… hm, I’m afraid I don’t recognize it?

“Oh, should’ve known you would notice that, Mr. Chemistry Genius,” Alec teases. “It’s Buprenorphine. Izzy’s a forensic pathologist now, but she started in a lab, a couple years back. I have a few tattoos for her, actually. Um, here, on this arm, it’s a beaker of some kind.”

“Erlenmeyer flask,” Magnus says, taking a look. “Looks so realistic.”

He doesn’t point out that Buprenorphine is an addiction withdrawal drug. Alec probably didn’t realize he’d know, and it’s not his place to intrude. For now, Magnus is satisfied with this atmosphere, easy and amicable.

“Yeah, and a few other science-y things. I’ve got this big one, up… here.” He pulls up his left shirtsleeve even further, to about mid-bicep. Yeah, the sleeve seems to be a full one, alright. And Alec’s _arms_ , holy shit. Magnus is going to _die_.

Plus, the tattoo is exquisite. “Fractals,” Magnus breathes. He runs his fingers over the ink lightly, brushing ever so slightly over Alec’s arm. Alec shivers under him, and Magnus freezes, suddenly aware of what he’s doing.

He looks up, wide-eyed, and feels the temperature in the room skyrocket when he meets Alec’s gaze, mirroring his expression. Magnus didn’t realize how close he’d gotten to Alec; he's nearly pressed up against his side, and suddenly, Magnus is hypersensitive to the space between them and  _not_ between them.  

Magnus exhales softly, shakily, and sees Alec’s eyes dart down to his lips for a second. Just a quick second, but still, it’s there. It could mean nothing. Magnus knows he’s attractive, and just because Alec has a moment of weakness doesn’t mean he’s interested. Not the way Magnus is in him, at least.

Magnus’s hand, still hovering over Alec’s arm, drops to rest on it properly. It’s just a touch, but it feels like sparks bursting into flame from the tips of Magnus’ fingers to the rest of his body. Desire rolls deep in Magnus’ gut, and he has to fight to keep his breathing steady.

Almost unconsciously, Magnus’ eyes dart down to Alec’s lips, then flick back up again. Alec’s gaze is heavy and intense, like it always is, and Magnus feels like he’s looking _into_ him. Magnus shivers, and his hand tightens on Alec’s arm. The muscles under his fingers jump reflexively, and Alec’s eyes, if possible, turn even hotter.

He feels drunk on it, whatever this is, and his mind narrows to a single focal point. Magnus opens his mouth to speak, to breathe Alec’s name maybe, to ask him to kiss him maybe, to ask him to hold him against the wall and fuck the living daylights out of him maybe, but within that breath of his, Alec whispers: “ _Magnus_.” His voice is raw, sounding wrecked.  

Magnus can’t help the shudder that travels through his body. To have that quiet intensity focused entirely on him, with Alec looking at him like he’s seeing something golden for the first time… it’s a bold and fresh feeling, setting his nerves alight.

Slowly, Magnus leans in, giving Alec plenty of time to lean away, but Alec only watches his lips as they come closer. Then Magnus’ eyes are fluttering shut, and _oh_ , they’re _kissing_ , and Alec’s lips are soft, so soft, as they move gently against his own.

Alec leans in further, pressing more insistently, and the once-soft kiss, while still dry, becomes a little harder, a little less innocent. Alec is a _good_ kisser: he doesn’t move too fast or too slow, and he nips gently at Magnus’ bottom lip. Magnus whines, high in his throat, and his fingers dig into Alec’s arm when he tilts his head up to deepen the kiss.

He tongues over Alec’s lip, drawing a soft groan, and Alec opens his mouth with a sigh. Magnus licks into it, reveling in this feeling. He’s kissing _Alec_. Alec is kissing him _back_. Oh, he can’t even count the ways he’s imagined this before, but no fantasy compares to the real thing.

Alec reaches up to cup the back of Magnus’ neck, tilting Magnus’ head up even more, enough that Alec is leaning over him. Positioned like this, Alec dwarfs him, and it’s a heady, drunken feeling that makes Magnus feel weak in the knees, consumed by Alec’s passion.

Magnus hums into Alec’s mouth, conceding control of the kiss. His hum soon turns to a soft drawn-out moan, and Magnus runs his hands over Alec’s arms, completely taken with familiarizing himself with the strong, capable muscles.

They part only to breathe, and even then, they stay close enough to share their air. Alec presses his forehead to Magnus’, looks adoringly into his eyes— _thank god_ , because Magnus was scared for a split second that he had misread this—and smiles delightedly into the hot air between them.

Alec presses a few spit-slick kisses in a trail from the corner of Magnus’ mouth up his cheek, and Magnus is helpless to do anything but close his eyes and lean into it. And then Alec scratches lightly at Magnus’ hairline at the nape of his neck and shocks a surprised and _very_ affected moan from Magnus. He shudders, struggling to keep his knees steady.

“ _Oh_ ,” Alec breathes against Magnus’ cheek. He noses at Magnus’ temple and the hair above his ear, drawing another shiver. Then Alec does it again, scraping at Magnus’ nape a little harder than before, and this time, Magnus’ knees do buckle, just a little.

“Oh, fuck,” Magnus says when he catches himself by clutching Alec’s arm tightly. He looks at Alec with a barely visible blush high on his cheeks, and says, grinning: “Don’t hold that against me.”

Alec huffs out a small laugh, and his eyes crinkle. “Oh, I plan on holding it against you.” He leans in closer to place a brief but wet kiss on Magnus’ lips, licking into his mouth just for a moment. “ _All_ against you.”

Magnus’ breath hitches, and he looks at him, dazed. “This is the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me,” he says faintly. And then: “Oh, wait, the _stove_.”

They’re still right next to it, and fortunately, the stove’s on a low simmer so there’s been no real harm to the pasta sauce. Magnus peers at it closely, barely biting back a pleased smile. He grabs the tasting spoon, and oh, how on earth did Alec manage to do this in just a few minutes? He moans in delight when the taste spreads across his tongue. And if he turns the sound into something a little lewder halfway through, well, he hopes Alec’s paying attention.

Alec is, as it turns out. He crowds into Magnus’ space from behind, pressing his chest against Magnus’ back, and wraps his arms around his waist. Alec noses along the very sensitive nape of his neck, drawing a small shiver from Magnus, feeling the thrill of this little dance in his very bones.

Magnus leans back into the warmth of Alec’s body and can’t stop the little half-nervous, half-excited giggle that passes his lips when he looks down and sees Alec’s tattooed forearms around him.

It all goes directly to his head. “Alexander,” he whimpers, his voice trembling slightly.

Alec finds the hem of Magnus’ shirt and plays with it, then dips his finger underneath to brush lightly against Magnus’ stomach. Magnus’ breath hitches, then he forgets how to breathe altogether when Alec leans down and kisses the knob of the top of his spine. He kisses a light line to the side of Magnus’ neck and nuzzles there gently. At Magnus’ quiet “ _oh_ ,” Alec nips at the skin and then begins sucking at a spot right below his jaw.

Magnus tilts his head, allowing Alec more access, and finds himself resting his head back onto Alec’s shoulder. “Oh my god, what are you doing to me?” he says, giddy but in near disbelief.

Alec smiles brightly against his neck. Magnus feels it like a brand, and it sends his heart stuttering. “I think it’s done,” Alec says then, and it takes Magnus a moment to realize Alec’s talking about the pasta sauce. Alec reaches out and turns the stove off. Then he says, “Sorry,” because he’s jostled Magnus off his shoulder in the process.

“No, it’s all fine.” Magnus turns where he is to face Alec, wanting to see him.

A second after he does, he realizes what a big mistake it was. Because now they’re pressed up against each other, front to front, and Magnus is having a very hard time containing how much that’s affecting him. Alec doesn’t seem inclined to take a step back either.

With a jolt, Magnus realizes he’s been staring at Alec’s lips, which are slowly curving upwards into a small, almost shy grin. Alec leans in and kisses him. It’s slow, but no less intense or intentful, and Magnus feels his entire world shaking.

“Come on,” he says against Alec’s lips. He steps forward, maneuvering Alec as they go so that he doesn’t crash into anything. He kisses him, and keeps kissing him as he walks Alec backwards until they’re out of the kitchen and into his living room, where Magnus pushes Alec down onto his sofa.

Magnus is already half-hard, and he feels like he’s being stretched at the seams of his very being, which is why when he puts his hands on Alec’s shoulders and straddles his hips, he moans, unashamedly loud. He wastes no time rolling his hips against Alec’s. Alec hisses, biting back and abortive groan, and Magnus does it again, feeling himself growing harder in the confines of his pants.

Clothes suddenly seem like a colossal mistake. Magnus leans back just a bit to strip off his own shirt and preens when he sees how appreciatively Alec is looking at him. He works hard to maintain his body, and just thinking about Alec wrapped around him, pressing together so his cock is pressed against Magnus’ abs, is dizzying.

Alec mirrors his move. And when his shirt is off, Magnus nearly comes right then and there.

Alec’s tattoos are gorgeous, and they meld and flow together flawlessly all up his arms. They don’t end at the top of his arms; the sleeves extend up about the halfway onto his pecs and shoulders on both sides.

He looks… powerful. There’s no other way to describe how the tattoos change Alec’s image. Not only do the tattoos accentuate the curve of every solid muscle of Alec’s body, they also flip everything Magnus thought about Alec on its head.

Objectively, Magnus knows that people can be professional and have tattoos at the same time, but there’s something to be said about uncovering something like this under Alec’s impeccable and polite demeanor. It’s like a secret, just for Magnus’ taking. A demonstration in duality.

Sweet Alec, with his shy smiles and messy hair, sitting in a tattoo chair, bearing the needle and marking his skin. Magnus wonders how Alec reacts to pain. Obviously not badly, considering how many times he’s gone back. Does Alec get a tattoo endorphin high? When did he get his first, and which one was it? He wants to know Alec. He wants to _see_ him.

“Do you—,” he starts and finds his mouth suddenly dry. He wets his lips (and Alec follows that movement), then says, “Do you have any others? Uh, tattoos, I mean.”

Alec smirks knowingly. “So it _was_ the tattoos,” he muses, and Magnus files that away for future conversation, because right now all he wants to do is get his mouth on Alec’s ink. And then Alec answers, his voice rough: “Why don’t you find out?”

 _Holy fuck_ , Magnus thinks, his head dizzy and ears roaring. He leans in and presses a kiss to Alec’s mouth, just once, and then he’s kissing along Alec’s jaw and down his neck, stopping to mouth at the skin where his shoulder starts until there’s a small red bruise blooming.

And then finally, he’s at the first line of the ink. Magnus takes his time with it. He’s not sure how sensitive this area even is for Alec—it is his shoulder after all, but Magnus bites at the lines anyway. He finds a small angel wing at Alec’s collarbone and scrapes his teeth over it, eliciting a strong shudder from Alec.

There’s a snake that wraps around Alec’s upper arm a few times that catches Magnus’ attention. He doesn’t want to be that person who literally licks Alec’s arm, so he kisses along its lines instead. His hands run down and then back up Alec’s arms as if smoothing them, memorizing them.

Alec’s hands find Magnus’ hips, and Magnus hums in pleasure as they tighten considerably. He rolls his hips downwards, clutching at Alec’s biceps. Magnus doesn’t dare close his eyes; the sight of his fingers digging into Alec’s tattoo sleeves as they both moan is going to be _permanently_ etched into his brain.

He’s deeply gratified by the low whine that Alec makes in response. Alec’s hands explore his back, so warm on his skin that it sends heat through his spine. Magnus tangles his hands in Alec’s hair and brings him forward to kiss him hard. There’s a live current running under both their skins, and this time it’s Alec who thrusts his hip upwards.

They pull back, panting into the hot air between them, and then kiss again without moving in any closer. It’s open-mouthed and mainly tongue and slick and filthy wet. Magnus lets Alec lick into his mouth again and again, and then he gasps a moan out when Alec catches his bottom lip with his teeth playfully.

 _Fuck_ , Magnus thinks. He had _plans_! He wanted to kiss and lick his way down Alec’s torso, his glorious plane of abs, and bite at Alec’s waistband. He wanted to undo his belt and button and unzip Alec’s jeans with his teeth. He wanted to take Alec’s cock into his mouth, look up through his eyelashes to where Alec would be biting his lip to stifle his sounds, and show Alec how much he wanted this, how much desire was coursing through his veins.

He wanted Alec’s hand tangled in his hair, moving Magnus’ head on his cock. Magnus has thought about this so many times: being on his knees for Alec, who would slap his cheek with his cock and spread spit and precum across his lips, who would press a thumb into Magnus’ bottom lip until he opened and let him in. He wanted to see the line of Alec’s tattoo sleeve from the ground, kneeling between Alec’s legs.

But right now? All he can really think about is the pleasure channeling through his body, short-circuiting his nerves. Alec sucks Magnus’ lip into his mouth and tongues at it, swallowing Magnus’ pleased moan. He reaches up, swipes a thumb over his mouth, and draws a slick trail down to his chin with the saliva. All Magnus’ plans fly out the window, again.

Magnus comes to the budding and very welcome realization that Alec seems to be just as kinky as he is. It’s something he hopes they’ll be able to explore, sometime in the future. But for now, he settles for grinding down again, clutching Alec’s arms tightly for leverage.

He’s close already, and his hips have a mind of their own, thrusting repeatedly in his search for as much friction as possible. There’s damp, sticky spot on the inside of his briefs that makes it both better and worse to have pants still on. But it’s too late to worry about that; he’s too far gone.

Magnus buries his face in Alec’s neck to muffle his small moans and mouths at his collarbone and neck. He scratches down Alec’s arms, imagining how the light red lines will intersect with the tattoos. He pants hotly against Alec’s skin, then groans when Alec thrust upwards, meeting Magnus with the very same fervor.

“Oh my— God, I’m so close,” Magnus moans. “But I can’t— Like this, I _can’t_.”

Alec’s hands find Magnus’ shoulders, then scrape down his chest, leaving his own faint red marks in their wake. Magnus moans and grinds down harder. The friction is good, almost too good, and that’s making it hard to maintain the rhythm he needs to come. He lets out a frustrated groan.

“Here, let me— Can I?” Alec asks, and even as Magnus nods fervently, Alec is already hurriedly unzipping their pants. A hand dips into Magnus’ briefs, yes, _finally_.

On the first touch of Alec’s hand on Magnus’ bare cock, Magnus chokes out a low groan, his eyes fluttering shut. He thrusts into the warmth, wet and sticky enough that’s it’s _oh_ , so _good_. Magnus is so deep within his pleasure that he’s reduced to nothing but his need to come, to come at Alec’s hand.

Alec’s other hand roams Magnus’ body like he can’t get enough, like he wants to learn the way Magnus’ body moves, and it’s almost too much to bear. _How is he real?_ , Magnus thinks feverishly. Then hisses: “Yes, come on, please.”

Alec cups the back of Magnus’ head, running a hand through his hair gently for a second. Magnus has just gotten the slightest bit used to it, still focused on where his and Alec’s cocks are sliding against each other, when Alec’s hand tightens suddenly, pulling none too gently at Magnus’ hair.

Magnus melts, in shambles. His body feels liquid, and he slumps against Alec a moaning and quivering mess. Alec does it again, taking advantage of the spot at the top of Magnus’ neck he’d discovered earlier, and it reduces Magnus to a speechless, keening puddle.

“Ah, oh my god, _oh_!” Magnus moans, and he can’t even muster the brain power to be embarrassed about the loud, uncontrolled noises spilling from his lips.

Then Alec’s gaze finds Magnus’ mouth, and he looks intently at the slack, open-mouthed shape of his lips, like there’s nothing else he’d rather stare at for the rest of his life than Magnus’ swollen, red and kiss-bitten lips. He lets go his grip on Magnus’ hair and instead thumbs at them, pressing his nail into the bottom one. Magnus moans, his throat thick with everything building between them.

“I want your mouth,” Alec breathes. Magnus nods furiously. Yes, _yes_ , that is exactly what he wants. If he wasn’t straddling Alec’s hips, his thighs spread wide around them, he would be sliding to his knees right now, leaning down to wrap his lips around the head of his cock, to taste him, to feel that weight on his tongue until his jaw is sore with it. But Alec’s hand tightens around both their cocks, confusing Magnus for just a moment, before Alec continues, “But not right now.”

Alec’s thumb pushes in between Magnus’ lips easily, and he presses the pad of it to Magnus’ tongue with enough pressure to push Magnus’ mouth open wider. Magnus wraps his tongue around Alec’s thumb, keeping his mouth open the way Alec clearly wants.

He moans around it, and it comes out sounding like something between a whimper and a whine. Alec makes a low noise in response, deep in his chest, and the sound vibrates through his body and Magnus’.

Alec moves his thumb to the side of Magnus’ mouth, pulling on the inside of his cheek until it’s bulging outwards. Magnus feels thoroughly used, subject to Alec’s almost curious exploration of his mouth. Alec’s pupils are blown wide as he looks at Magnus; Magnus can’t bring himself to look away.

It’s intense, like pinpricks of light spilling from their skin and drawing them together. The pleasure is a heady and all-consuming ecstasy, something that loosens Magnus’ limbs enough that he’s boneless and limp and with a liquid spine, clutching at Alec’s shoulders for leverage.

Magnus’ hips don’t stop moving the entire time, slowly but surely coming apart in Alec’s hands, against Alec’s cock. Alec drags Magnus’ bottom lip down a little when he eventually pulls his thumb out, but he’s quick to replace it with two of his fingers.

This time, he doesn’t hold back, and Magnus soon feels himself struggling to keep his gag reflex under control when Alec’s fingers reach the back of his tongue. He closes his lips around them, sucking and licking where he can, and makes sure to take them deep enough that his lips touch Alec’s knuckles. Alec breathes a low “Fuck” at the sight, and Magnus moans around his fingers.

And then Alec does something with the hand holding their cocks that has Magnus choking. He pulls back off Alec’s fingers just enough that they’re not threatening to gag him anymore, and a high whine escapes him. Magnus keens, shaken and consumed by pleasure.

Alec is clearly focusing more on Magnus than he is on himself, but Magnus is determined to give as good as he gets. He takes a third of Alec’s fingers into his mouth, stretching his lips around them. He knows it truly looks like he’s fellating Alec’s hand, and he bobs his head a couple times, meeting Alec’s eyes directly as he does so. Alec’s eyes are dark, pupils blown and glassy with pleasure, and Magnus knows he’s the same.

Alec’s hips stutter in pleasure-slash-surprise, effectively rubbing his cock against Magnus’. They groan deeply, their hips moving in sync, and it’s not long before Magnus can feel the pressure of climax in his balls. From the way Alec’s body is quivering under his, barely restrained power and desire bundled within him, Magnus bets he’s in a similar state.

Good. He wants to see Alec fall apart, to feel his body become one single taut string of tension, then release. Magnus is insatiable; he wants _more_. He grinds into the tight grip of Alec’s hand holding their cocks together, then reaches down and cups Alec’s balls, rolling one in his palm.

Alec gasps loudly, says a choked “Oh fuck I’m—,” and then he’s coming in hot spurts in the space between their bodies. The slick of his come makes the frottage even smoother, and Magnus’ hips stutter as he winds towards his own finish.

Magnus says, or tries to, “Come on,” but with Alec’s fingers muffling him, his words devolve into low moans instead. He hollows his cheeks and sucks Alec’s fingers deeper into his mouth, relishing the way it provides him with a semi-anchor as he gets closer to the edge. Alec strokes Magnus’ cock fast and tight, almost exactly how he likes it.

On his next stroke up, Alec brushes his thumb over Magnus’ slit, and he applies extra pressure to Magnus’ head as well, twisting his hand around it as he jerks him. Magnus keens, groaning around Alec’s fingers.

And then Alec leans in and kisses Magnus, but with his fingers still being thoroughly worshipped by Magnus’ tongue, it’s more that Alec just licks the line of saliva drooling from the corner of Magnus’ mouth and kisses a wet trail to right below his jaw. He latches onto the skin there and scrapes his teeth over it, and if Magnus was falling apart before, he now feels thoroughly and absolutely _ruined_.

Magnus sees himself in Alec’s lap, straddling his hips as he fucks up into Alec’s fist, as he sucks dizzily on Alec’s fingers, wishing it was his cock instead. He feels lightheaded with lust and bliss. Alec’s arms are broad, brawny, and covered as they are, entirely in the colored, geometric, curved, thin, and bold lines of his tattoos, is there a more devastatingly ravishing image?

Alec isn’t just a storm, Magnus realizes. He’s the calm before it, and he’s the destruction afterwards, too. He feels wrapped entirely in Alec’s presence, and then he’s overwhelmed, pleasure reaching its peak as Magnus careens toward his climax and the euphoria flooding through his veins. With a near shout, Magnus comes, and it’s immediately muffled by Alec’s fingers.

He sags forward against Alec, letting the fingers slip from his mouth, and rests his forehead on Alec’s chest. Magnus pants heavily into the space between them, and he shivers slightly when he feels Alec’s arms stroke gently up his arm, down his back.

More exhilaration and his giddy high than amusement, a near laugh bubbles from Magnus. Still breathless, he manages finally, “So.”

“So,” Alec echoes, and then chuckles slightly. “I guess we should… y’know?” Even though he can’t see it, Magnus can tell he’s gesturing vaguely.

“Talk?” Magnus guesses. Alec laughs again.

“I was gonna say clean up,” he says. “But yeah, after that, we can. Um, talk, that is.”

Magnus grins. Alec deserves to see what he does to him, so he looks up, meeting Alec’s eye again. Alec returns his smile as some of the soft tension releases from his body, and Magnus rests his hands on his shoulders and rubs gentle circles there with a thumb.

He takes a deep breath. “I like you,” he says, then feels abruptly vulnerable. But just moments later, he gets to witness Alec’s face bloom into a large grin of his own. Relief floods through him as quickly as his orgasm had, and Magnus is taken to almost new and greater heights.

“Me too,” Alec says. “I mean… I like you.”

Magnus leans in and kisses him. It’s sweet and innocent, especially considering what they’ve just been doing. He smiles against Alec’s lips, feeling giddy and fluttering.

“Wow,” Alec says with a small, almost secret smile. He sounds admiring, and Magnus can’t help the happiness bubbling through him.

“Wow,” he whispers back. _Wow_.

Eventually, after a long, but slow while, when they pull back, it’s Alec who speaks first. “So, it really was the ink, huh?”

Magnus smiles and kisses Alec’s cheek, once, twice. He pulls back and looks Alec in the eye, cupping his cheek. This thing of theirs, already fond while still so new, beats like a new heartbeat between them. Magnus can see himself here for a long, long time.

“The sleeves,” he answers. “ _And_ the person who came with them.”

Alec ducks his head with a blush, but Magnus feels the arms around him tighten. Magnus wants to learn these arms, this body, this person. And now he can. Magnus can't wait.

After all, he still doesn’t know if Alec has more tattoos. Yet.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus has a thing for tattoos. He also has a thing for Alec. 
> 
> or: ink kink fic
>
>> He runs his fingers over the ink lightly, brushing ever so slightly over Alec’s arm. Alec shivers under him, and Magnus freezes, suddenly aware of what he’s doing. 
>> 
>> He looks up, wide-eyed, and feels the temperature in the room skyrocket when he meets Alec’s gaze.

Magnus doesn’t want to move for at least a thousand years. He could stay here forever, leaning against Alec’s chest lazily. After they’d cleaned themselves up, Magnus had pulled Alec’s sweater on, claiming he was chilly. It wasn't _entirely_ a lie.

The material is soft, so Magnus feels a combination of snug and smug wrapped in it. Although a little tight around the arms, the length makes up for it, so it’s just a little too large on Magnus. Wearing the sweater makes him feel possessed by Alec, somehow, and seeing Alec’s reaction only adds to that.

Alec, on the other hand, is still shirtless, and Magnus thanks his lucky stars that Alec apparently runs a little hot, because seeing the tattoos without the haze of lust is indescribable. Magnus has his head pillowed on Alec’s chest, and Alec’s arm is around him, wrapping around to his front where Magnus has interlinked their fingers.

“Your tattoos are… beautiful,” Magnus says. His eyes rove over the expanse of ink, cataloging each and every one. Some flow into each other, almost merging, while others are distinct shapes and subjects.

He imagines how Alec would have cared for them, after each session. The careful, cool diligence that makes Alec’s every move so precise surely carried into his tattoo care. Magnus can’t imagine Alec being anything but driven and focused, but he knows there’s more to him, as there always is. He wonders what’s hiding beneath this skin.

“Thanks,” Alec says after a brief pause. He turns their linked hands over so that Magnus can see the other side of his arm. “I always knew I wanted some, but it took a long time for me to decide what I wanted. But after my first…. It just stuck with me.”

Magnus makes a low humming noise of acknowledgment. He uses his free hand to trace over a few words of some archaic language he doesn’t recognize. “What was your first?” he asks.

And then immediately regrets it when Alec tenses slightly behind him. It’s so subtle that Magnus wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t actually laying on top of Alec, but as is, he’s able to feel the tension trickling into Alec’s muscles.

“Sorry,” he says immediately. He turns to look at Alec. “You don’t have to—, I mean—.”

Alec shakes his head, and lips curve up in what looks like a half-smile, half-grimace. “No, it’s okay. I want to.” He takes a breath and seems to relax in front of Magnus’ eyes. “This one,” he points, “I got it when I was sixteen. After—,” he cuts off.

But Magnus knows. “Max” the tattoo reads. He remembers the day Alec told him about Max, about the accident, about the grief. It had been a long and silent companionship, that evening.

The tattoo is small and easy to miss, especially because it’s exceedingly simple next to the rest of the sleeve. Still, the word is almost powerful in its minimalism. While surrounded on all sides and often buried, the tattoo is clearly a staunch and bold reminder.

“Oh,” he breathes. For a moment, he struggles to find something to say. Finally: “May I?” he asks, and indicates.

Alec nods with a small, fond smile. When Magnus traces his thumb over the “Max,” he feels reverent.

“It’s fitting,” Magnus says eventually.

When Alec says, “I think so, too,” Magnus can hear the soft smile in his voice. Alec breathes easy behind him, and they share a small, quiet moment.

Eventually, Magnus turns to Alec and leans in for a kiss. It’s not rough or hard, or anything more than lips, really, but he still feels filled to the brim with something akin to desire. He kisses Alec again, and again, and again.

Alec is breathing a little heavier when he finally pulls back, and Magnus knows he’s no better. “If I cancel on my friends, will you stay the night? We don't have to—, not a round two, if you don't want. But just to stay?” he asks.

Alec huffs a small laugh, looking at him with fond eyes. “Magnus, I live across the hall. You should spend time with your friends.”

“Is that a no?” Magnus grins. “Cat and Ragnor come over every week anyway. It’s a miracle you haven’t run into them by now, actually.”

Alec’s eyes crinkle, and he ducks to give Magnus a small peck. Already, somehow, they’re familiar and domestic, and yet there’s an ocean of lust behind their every interaction. “No, it wasn’t a no. And for the record, if I stayed, and if you wanted to, we'd _definitely_ go for round two.”

“Good,” Magnus breathes against Alec’s lips. He twists his body further to get better access and cups Alec’s cheek as he leans in again. It’s a deeper kiss, this time, and just as consuming as the last. “That’s good. Because I want to get my mouth on you.”

Alec softly moans with a sigh, and then he pulls back, looking pained. “If I could get it up again so soon, I would, I promise, but….”

Magnus, honest to god, _giggles_. He doesn’t have it in him to be embarrassed about it. “That’s okay, we have all night, after all. I’ll text Cat and Ragnor, and then… stay for dinner?”

“Sure,” says Alec with a smile, a little lopsided and happy, like it’s that’s simple. Magnus climbs off him and takes a moment to admire the view: Alec, lazing on his sofa, shirtless with his tattoos on display. He looks powerful, carrying a strength that Magnus can’t wait to witness, and experience, himself.

Magnus finds his phone where he tossed it on the floor earlier and taps out a quick message updating his friends: _OK SORRY TO CANCEL BUT i just had the BEST sex & i’m about to have more _

Ragnor replies almost instantaneously: _you’re flaking? should’ve known_

Magnus sends a quick, affronted: _HEY!!_ when his phone vibrates again.

Catarina has also chosen to ignore his sex life update. She says: _Let’s do tomorrow instead?_

Magnus answers: _YES that works_

And Ragnor: _i’m free, but are we sure magnus won’t have spontaneous sex again? can we ever be truly sure?_

Magnus laughs, and chooses to ignore the text in favor of returning to Alec, who’s pulled on Magnus’ shirt—tight around his torso and delicious to look at, especially from behind—and made his way to the kitchen, looking around curiously.

“Don’t look so lost,” he chuckles. “It’s thanks to you that we have anything edible at all.” He grabs a few plates out of his cabinet and serves them both.

When the table is set, Magnus can’t help that his heart beats a little faster. It’s an informal setup, and the food isn’t that fancy, and there aren’t candles or rose petals or anything. But it’s still dinner, and it feels… like a date.

God, he _hopes_ this is a date.

It’s with that thought that he sits down at his table with Alec, on adjacent sides. Their legs tangle easily under the table, and Magnus just knows that he’s going to push his luck later this evening. Like his favorite move in the book, trailing his foot up his partner’s leg suggestively, to which he’s sure Alec grin and duck his head a little bit, pleased and anticipating, with his cheeks a little flushed.

Dinner goes swimmingly. In fact, it goes better than swimmingly. He and Alec have been friends for awhile now, but it’s the first time they’ve had more than just a quick drink and chat together. The air between them, while charged, is easy and comfortable. They talk about work, about friends, about the new movie Magnus has been dying to see that Alec watched yesterday.

They very conspicuously do _not_ talk about sex. But it lingers in their words, almost like a game; every time their eyes meet, it’s with the promise of something to come. When Magnus’ foot brushes Alec’s calf, a little higher each time, Alec _does_ duck his head and blush, and his eyes darken, too. Alec reaches out and brushes his fingertips along Magnus’ arm, flexing his own as he does to make his tattoos _move_. Magnus almost chokes on his food.

When they’re finished and the plates are put away, Alec drapes himself over Magnus from behind, crowding him against the counter, and kisses his neck gently. Magnus shivers with a sigh, tilting his head back. He doesn’t know if Alec is this way, but he personally doesn’t enjoy having sex right after eating, feeling too bloated and relaxed to really get keyed up the way he enjoys the most.

But this? The gentle kissing, nosing at Magnus’ sensitive neck too softly for it to be an attempt to get him in the mood? Alec just wants Magnus to feel good and held, safe in his arms, demonstrating how perfectly in tune he is with Magnus, in a way he didn’t know possible for new lovers.

He rests his head on Alec’s shoulder and looks up at him, regarding Alec from the side of his eyes. “You want to watch something for a little while?” asks Magnus.

Alec presses a soft kiss to Magnus’ cheek, nuzzling there for a moment before agreeing. The way he looks at him, like a storm brewing, both restrained and undone. When they move to the sofa, Magnus throws something on the TV, but it’s perfunctory at best; he knows he’ll be largely ignoring it, occupied instead by chatting with Alec.

Their movie goes as well as dinner, all suggestive touches and glances and talking about everything and nothing at the same time. Magnus

At one point, Alec’s knuckles press against Magnus’ thigh, high enough for it to be on purpose. Magnus forgets what he’s saying and has to start his sentence over three times, trying and failing to ignore Alec’s smirk. But he gets his revenge when he places a hand on Alec’s chest, under the guise of needing to reposition himself on the sofa, and makes sure a finger rubs over one of Alec’s nipples, unfortunately still clothed, though Magnus hopes not for long.

Their little game devolves from there. The touches become less suggestive and more meaningful, and the warmth in their eyes turns to heat. By the time Magnus leans down to bite playfully at Alec’s collarbone, Alec has a hand halfway up Magnus’ (or should he say Alec’s) sweater.

Alec pulls away for a second to pull his shirt off, and Magnus’ breath catches. Just like before, the unveiling of Alec’s tattoos makes Magnus feel both giddy and hot. He doesn’t get the chance to even run his hands over the skin before Alec moves to pull his sweater off Magnus with purpose.

He kisses him, hard. It’s intense and full of something hopeful, and Magnus really has been missing out his entire life, if this was what was waiting for him.

“Look at you,” Alec exhales. He can’t seem to pull his eyes away from the heavy rise and fall of Magnus’ chest. Alec runs his hands down Magnus' chest with the same awe as earlier, trailing the grooves of Magnus’ abs and over his ribs. “I want you,” he groans softly. “I don’t care how.”

“ _Plans_ , Alexander. We have plans.” Magnus kisses him again, then reaches down between them to palm at the bulge of Alec’s pants. Alec moans lowly, and Magnus can feel him hardening within his pants. “I want to blow you,” he says, and when Alec hisses a small “ _please_ ,” Magnus unzips his pants.

He keeps it a tease, but when Alec’s hips buck up impatiently, Magnus undoes his jeans entirely and pulls them down as much as he can. To be able to experience this again, so soon after the first time, is something Magnus once could only dream of.

Alec lifts his hips to help Magnus pull the jeans down just enough to free his cock. They both let out low moans when it springs free, and Magnus drinks in the sight of it, seemingly the perfect thickness for Magnus to be able to deepthroat.

All the fantasies from before, of how Magnus wants to taste Alec and bury himself in that musk, of curling his tongue around his cock and tonguing at the vein, of wrapping his lips around the girth of it. Suffice to say, he can't wait to get his mouth around Alec's cock. His mouth is literally watering already.

Magnus slides to the floor between Alec’s legs, his hands skating up and down his thighs. His gaze flicks between the dazed, anticipatory expression on Alec’s face and the hard cock between his legs. It’s thick and flushed and hard, and Magnus thinks he would feel Alec for _days_ if he fucked him. He squirms with anticipation.

Slowly, Magnus lowers his mouth over Alec’s cock, dipping his tongue first into the slit, just to get that first taste. And it’s glorious, the salty tang of it, familiar yet so new, and at Alec’s low groan moments later, Magnus sucks the crown into his mouth.

Another groan, deeper this time and vibrating through him, and Magnus hums in response. He looks up at Alec, trying to maintain eye contact as he sinks his head further onto his cock. Magnus reaches out, wrapping a hand around the rest of Alec’s cock, and lets the musky taste and smell of Alec take over his senses.

Having Alec’s erection in his mouth, feeling the weight of him on his tongue. It’s a worshipful feeling that goes straight to his head. Magnus can hardly think straight and he’s barely had Alec’s cock in his mouth for a few seconds. After a few more hard sucks, Magnus pulls back off Alec’s cock with a soft pop. There’s a string of saliva connecting his mouth to the head of Alec’s cock.

He pants heavily, regaining what breath he’d lost, and Alec shivers above him at even this. Magnus can’t help himself; he has plans, and he knows what he wants. He wets his lips even more and places a dirty, sloppy kiss to the shaft, then licks the head of Alec’s cock, just small, kitten licks that make it apparent he’s not aiming to take Alec’s cock back into his mouth.

Alec makes a questioning noise, and that’s when Magnus finally finds the willpower to pull back again. He clutches Alec’s thighs tightly in his hands, and then opens his mouth. Alec looks at him blankly for a second, and then Magnus sticks out his tongue, waiting expectantly.

Alec gets it. “Oh my god,” he groans. “How are you so—? _Magnus,_ holy fuck.”

Magnus just raises an eyebrow, as if asking Alec what he’s waiting for. It’s not a challenge, per se, but it’s definitely a “stop talking and fuck my mouth” look. So that’s what Alec does. He directs his cock to Magnus’ lips, letting the head rest on Magnus’ outstretched tongue. Magnus moves his head forward just a bit, keeping his mouth open, and relishes the slide of Alec’s cock deeper into his mouth.

Finally, Alec starts moving, slowly at first, then increasing in tempo. He gets a hand into Magnus hair, reminiscent of just earlier in the evening, and holds him in place. If Magnus could speak, he would be chanting “ _Yes_ ,” pulled form him unbidden from the way Alec’s hand tightens every time his cock slides along Magnus’ tongue.

Alec’s hips come off the sofa as he fucks into Magnus’ mouth, going deeper each time. Magnus is pinned in place, unable and unwilling to move. He just takes what Alec gives him. It’s enough for him; he can feel himself straining against his pants. He wonders if he’d be able to come just like this, overwhelmed by the sheer immensity of this reality. How many times has he imagined this exact scenario?

But god, the pressure is insane, just the right side of pain and pleasure right now, and Magnus hands itch to relieve it before it hurts. If his hands weren’t holding onto Alec’s thighs, keeping him steady against the forceful thrusts, Magnus would be jerking himself right now. He needs _something_.

But all his focus is on Alec right now; when Alec’s hips jerk forward, Magnus watches the pleasure overtake his expression. He sees exactly what he’d been hoping to see from this position: Alec biting his lip but allowing some muffled groans to slip through, and the line of Alec’s arm as it holds him in place, covered entirely in tattoos.

They seem to _roll_ as Alec’s arm moves with his every movement, as if coming alive on his skin. The black and colors come together and apart, the same way Magnus feels pulls tight at the seams and unraveling simultaneously. It’s the most wondrous sight Magnus can recall ever seeing, and he gets to pleasure the man who owns it, who’s currently fucking his mouth.

Magnus has never been one to ignore his baser urges. He leans into Alec’s thrusts more to avoid being pushed back by them, and reaches down with one of his hands. It’s pure coincidence that Magnus happens to press the heel of his palm to his bulge just when Alec stutters to a stop deep in Magnus’ mouth, nearly in his throat.

It's practically fate: the resulting moan from Magnus travels up through Alec as a full-body shudder, and Alec's thighs begin quivering as he gets closer to the edge. Magnus does it again, vibrating his throat, and Alec throws his head back with a strangled yell.

“Fuck, Magnus, you’re so filthy, god,” Alec pants. “Look at you, _shit_.”

Magnus can’t keep his eyes from fluttering shut, and it’s a damn shame, because soon Alec starts pumping his hips a little more desperately than before. He wants to know what Alec looks like when he comes, but god, Magnus is losing himself in his own pleasure. It’s all he can do to keep his throat as open as possible and his gag reflex under control.

His lips are stretched tight, and he knows they’re probably red and shining. He feels himself drooling around Alec’s cock, down to his chin, and Magnus thinks wildly about seeing what he looks like this way. He wants to know what Alec’s seeing: the glisten of Magnus’ mouth, the swollen lips wrapped tight around his shaft, his cheeks flushed, and his eyes watering, eyelashes clinging together as a few tears escape. Is Magnus pretty like this, taking Alec’s cock so well?

On a particularly hard thrust of Alec’s, Magnus chokes slightly and feels his eyes water more. He blinks his eyes open, groaning loudly as he blurrily sees Alec’s hips rolling forward again and again, just taking from Magnus’ willing mouth. Everything he is, reduced to just the pleasure he’s giving Alec.

“I’m gonna come, Magnus, I’m so close, do I pull out?” Alec says, and it takes Magnus a moment to figure out that he needs to respond. He tightens his grip on Alec’s thigh, trying to convey that he doesn't want Alec to go _anywhere_. “Shit,” Alec breathes. “That’s so hot, fuck.”

Then Alec’s grasp in Magnus’ hair is tightening, and he’s thrusting once, twice more, before he’s coming down Magnus’ throat in hot spurts. There’s not a lot of come considering they already got off a few hours earlier, so Magnus is able to swallow it all. And by god, the look on Alec’s face will be branded in Magnus’ mind forever, both as he comes and when he realizes why Magnus’ throat is working.

It takes a few moments for Magnus to figure out how to breathe through his nose again, though, and his eyes water heavily until he pulls off, half-gagging and half-swallowing.

“Sorry,” Alec says, his eyes wide and glassy. His body is limp and boneless, and he seems to sink into the sofa cushioning.

Magnus only manages to shake his head. He’s rolling his hips into his hand, pressing down exactly how he likes it. He can feel his climax on the horizon, fire in his gut and his balls. Magnus doesn’t remember the last time he was this turned on. With the exception of earlier, of course.

He doesn’t even register Alec moving until he’s on the floor next to Magnus, replacing Magnus’ hand with his own. Magnus groans, clutching Alec’s shoulders and burying his face into his neck. The marks from earlier are still red against Alec’s skin, a tattoo of Magnus’ own making.

He kisses it now, as he hums into Alec’s waiting palm. His jeans provide a rougher edge of friction, and Alec needs some much-needed pressure, a balance between too much and too little, and it’s perfect, it’s so good, oh my _god_ , and Magnus is running a hundred miles an hour towards his goal. He’s on the edge, moaning loudly, and his eyes are fluttered closed.

Then Alec says, “Magnus, look down.”

And _oh_ , oh my god, oh _fuck._

Because it’s not Alec’s _hand_ that he’s grinding into. It’s his _arm_.

Alec has positioned his forearm for Magnus to basically dry hump, to get himself off on. The _tattoo sleeve_. Oh my god, Magnus is grinding down onto his tattoos.

He has a single moment to wish that his pants were open so he could come all over them, see his own mark on top of the ones permanent in Alec’s skin, before Alec’s reaching out to unbutton and unzip them, clearly thinking the same thing. And just as Magnus grinds down particularly hard, Alec pulls his cock out, and the bare skin without the edge of rougher friction is nearly overwhelming.

Magnus bites his lip hard, trying to muffle something akin to a whining scream. His cock leaves a trail of precum when he grinds down on Alec’s arm again. It’s a pearly white against the black lines of Alec’s ink, and Magnus stares and stares and stares and holy _fuck_.

And all at once, he’s coming, everything spilling over so forcefully that Magnus is trembling, shivering through it with his hips jerking, and white fills his vision for a second as his head swims. The next thing he knows, Magnus is sagging against Alec, one of his arms around him, coming down from his peak with long and heavy exhales.  

“Fuck,” he says summarily, still breathless. Alec manages a laugh, and he agrees, darting a quick kiss into Magnus’ waiting lips.

Magnus looks down at Alec’s other arm, still where it was. There are lines of come on it, all over the sleeve. He heaves a shuddering breath, trying to regain his bearings. He reaches for Alec’s arm and swipes a thumb through his own come, spreading it across the skin there. Alec watches him silently, full of some emotion that Magnus can’t describe but knows much too well.

When Magnus whispers out a second “ _Fuck_ ” in awe, Alec answers with another kiss. Magnus leans into him, besotted.

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus has a thing for tattoos. He also has a thing for Alec. 
> 
> or: ink kink fic, where each chapter is its own (connected) pwp
>
>> He runs his fingers over the ink lightly, brushing ever so slightly over Alec’s arm. Alec shivers under him, and Magnus freezes, suddenly aware of what he’s doing. 
>> 
>> He looks up, wide-eyed, and feels the temperature in the room skyrocket when he meets Alec’s gaze.

Magnus wakes to a soft voice beside him, a gentle “Good morning.”

He snuffles into the sheets, muffles a low acknowledgment into his pillow, and burrows deeper into the warmth. There’s a body next to him, and Magnus instinctively snuggles closer to it, to the heat radiating from it. He brushes against an arm, strong and well-muscled, and sighs happily.

“Morning,” he mumbles, still within the haze of sleep. Seconds later, the way the man greeted him registers, all fond and amused and sweet on Magnus. And abruptly, Magnus’ brain is firing on all cylinders; he realizes: _Alec_.

“Oh!” his eyes flutter open. And there Alec is, through Magnus’ sleep-blurred vision, sharing his bed, bundled under the same sheets.

Of all the people Magnus has shared his bed with, Alec is by far the most beautiful. When they’d fallen asleep last night, he’d known of course that this would be the sight to greet him, but reality truly outsells.

“Alexander,” Magnus breathes, and feels his lips curve upwards. “What a pleasant sight to wake up to.”

With an expression mirroring Magnus’, Alec responds, “So’re you.”

Magnus’ pulse quickens. When he first met Alec, he’d thought he was all sharp edges and angles, but during their budding friendship, he’d slowly discovered that Alec is unfailingly courteous, if a bit guarded. Yesterday uncovered the quiet intensity Alec hid under his clothes. And now, another layer reveals itself.

In the morning light, Alec looks soft and angelic. And oh, there are his tattoos peeking out from under the sheets, some lines strong and bold, some curved and thin, black and colored all melding beautifully along his pecs, shoulders and upper arms.

“Be right back,” Alec says. With a long sigh, he rolls out of bed, and as the sheets fall away, his full sleeves are uncovered. Magnus drinks in it as Alec stretches idly; his limbs look graceful and pliant and soft, and Magnus itches to run his hands over them again. “Do you mind if I stay a little longer?” asks Alec.

 _Of course you can stay a little longer,_ Magnus thinks. He looks at Alec's back and arms as he peers at his phone on the nightstand, at the way his briefs cling to the curve of his ass. _In my bed. On my dick._

“That would be wonderful,” answers Magnus.

As Alec makes his way to the ensuite, Magnus pulls the sheet tighter around him, relishing the envelope of heat. Brooklyn is freezing these mornings, even if not literally, and if that means Magnus needs to steal the remnants of Alec’s body heat to stay warm, well, needs must.

He lazes in bed, satisfyingly cocooned, and briefly wonders if the pillow Alec slept on smells like him. Magnus would give anything for it to be _Alec’s_ pillow, to be _his_ side of the bed, for this to become a more established thing. The thought sends a warm glow tumbling through him.

Which is why he’s smiling to himself when Alec returns, looking like a god amongst men with tattoos running up his arms, his body toned but still soft from such good sleep. The bulge in Alec’s boxers send a small anticipatory thrill through Magnus, and he eyes it eagerly but without much intent.

“Isn’t Isabelle arriving today?” Magnus asks. He reluctantly relinquishes his hold on the sheets as Alec climbs back in. Alec nods. “What time do you have to head out?”

Alec hums in thought, curving his body closer toward Magnus’ warmer one. “Around 10?” he answers. “She said she’d be here at noon.”

Magnus smiles, very content with this development. “Plenty of time, then,” he says, even though he has no idea what time it is.

He looks at Alec quietly, the two of them suspended within their own world under the sheets and warmth of Magnus’ bed. Yesterday was a rush, and Magnus truly hasn’t had a moment to process it or think about what he really wants from Alec. They’re playing a dangerous game, gravitating towards each other even without really talking through things. He thinks they’re on the same page, but Magnus has been wrong before. Even if Alec’s earnest smiles and the eager way his eyes rake down Magnus’ body seem to prove him right.

He wonders how to bring it up, to potentially disturb this bubble they’re in, when Alec pulls the words from his mouth. “We should talk about this, shouldn’t we?” he asks.

Magnus nods. “I know we briefly mentioned a few things yesterday but…,” he shrugs a single shoulder.

With a slight laugh, Alec agrees. “Yeah, that wasn’t much.” A bracing exhale, then he asks wryly, “So what do we talk about first: yesterday’s… events, the fact that I stayed the night, or what comes next?”

Magnus smiles weakly. Hell if he knows. “Dealer’s choice?” he answers.

Maybe the morning is the best time to have these types of conversations, still buffered by the waking hours, because Alec only chuckles at Magnus’ hesitation. He says, “I just—. Don’t you think we’re moving a little too fast?”

Magnus understands. He does, but a larger part of himself is hurt by it. As if he _should_ be upset by the fact that Alec agreed to stay the night. Yesterday, they were so drunk on each other that neither stopped to think about what it meant that Magnus cancelled his plans with his friends to invite Alec to eat dinner and stay.

And so what if he knows Alec has a point? Magnus doesn’t want to go slow right now—sure, he might have guarded his heart closely in the past, burned too many times to trust people off the bat, but Alec disarms him in a way that makes Magnus _want_ to connect, to fall into this with no regard for the future.

Alec’s desire that they think about where they’re going before taking the plunge is definitely not a welcome conversation this early in the morning, especially when Magnus feels so pliant, both sex- and sleep-soft. But shit, Magnus doesn’t want to mess this up. If Alec needs to think about the future, then Magnus is game.

He shifts his head slightly, still half-buried in his plushest pillow. “I’ve slept with people I don’t even know the last name of,” he offers. “So in terms of moving too fast….”

But he’s not expecting the shadow that tinges Alec’s face in reaction. Worry spikes through Magnus for a few moments as Alec seems to collect his words. “But this isn’t just sleeping together, right?” Alec fidgets with the sheets, and all Magnus’ reticence disappears. He’s nearly overcome by how cute Alec looks, like a sad puppy that he can’t bear not to cuddle.

Temptation, thy name is Alec. Magnus boosts himself up just enough to slide over and fall onto Alec’s chest, pillowing his head high on one of Alec’s pecs. He kisses Alec’s collarbone softly, then looks up at him.

“If it’s not for you, it’s not for me,” he says. He thought they’d established this yesterday, but Magnus is always ready to find new ways to make Alec smile, to see relief smooth his features back into early morning lassitude.

Alec’s eyes _crinkle_. Magnus is sure Alec can feel his pulse beating wildly at the sight, but he can’t bring himself to care. Let Alec know how much he affects Magnus; for once, he doesn’t feel the need to appear invulnerable, and somehow, Magnus already trusts Alec to not step all over his open heart.

“It’s not for me, either,” answers Alec. He grins at Magnus softly, so golden in the streams of morning light from the window, and tightens an arm around him. “I want to see where this can go. With you.”

Magnus strokes over Alec’s other arm and watches his hand slide over the ink. Alec is an unforeseen reality; no matter how much Magnus might’ve fantasized about it, he never truly planned for an eventuality where anything came of his crush. He’s out of his depth, and yet the sinking feels so incredibly good.

“Me too,” he replies. His hand roams Alec’s shoulder, then moves down to his ribs to feel Alec breathing. “I’d like that.”

They’re quiet for a long-drawn moment, basking in the stillness of the sleeping world around them. Magnus looks at the red-bruised marks littering Alec’s neck and smiles to himself, pleased. Yesterday lingers, and from it, he feels warm and content so deep in his bones, he’s almost surprised he hasn’t melted into himself.

And then Alec says, low but still abrupt in the silence: “How do you feel about morning sex?”

Magnus startles, then grins, both amused and suggestive. He _loves_ morning sex. “Is that a request?” he asks, crawling up Alec’s body a little to lean over his face.

Alec’s hands find Magnus’ ribs, stroking over his sides idly. The chill of the room invades their space now that the sheet has fallen to Magnus’ mid-back, but no matter. He’s sure they’re about to warm right back up again.

“More a suggestion,” Alec replies. He roams Magnus’ lower back, running his fingers just a few times over the waistband of his briefs.

With a small shiver, Magnus presses back into the touch a little. Alec doesn’t drop his hands down to grab Magnus’ ass, but he does tease the action by moving to the sides of his thighs. He presses his fingers into the flesh at the outside curve, and Magnus feels it like a brand.

Alec drags his nails up to Magnus’ ribs before gripping him firmly to flip them, all in a single, sudden movement.  Magnus is momentarily disoriented and very, very turned on. Was the air knocked out of him or can he simply just not breathe?

Alec’s hair is mussed from the pillow, hanging over his forehead as he leans over Magnus, and the sheets are long-forgotten, thrown aside. He leans down and kisses Magnus softly. “Hi,” says Alec, biting back a larger grin.

His lips tingling, Magnus returns the smile, and reaches up to cup Alec’s cheek. His heart is pounding double-time, and he feels desire building in his gut, spreading through his limbs. “ _Hello_ , Alexander,” he purrs.

Magnus slides his hands to Alec’s shoulders, enjoying every moment of his palms against the inked skin, and follows the trail of one a little further back. Other than the curve of the sleeves’ ends at his shoulderblades, Alec’s back is noticeably untouched by any ink at all. It’s a smooth expanse that Magnus wants to mark himself, with crescents from his nails when Alec fucks him.

Just thinking about it makes Magnus harder; he would _love_ to get Alec’s fingers in him, stretching him apart to take his dick so deep he’d feel him for the rest of the day. But now’s not the time for something that would surely be so intense. “Nothing fancy,” Magnus sighs.

He’s not sure what reaction to expect from Alec, but he only dips to kiss Magnus again, on the corner of his lips, then on his cheek. Alec pulls back and meets Magnus’ eyes. “I don’t need anything fancy to get off with you.”

Magnus shivers, heat pulsing through him. He spreads his legs and slides them over Alec’s thighs, teasing until they’re wrapped around his hips and drawing Alec closer. Slotted against each other, there’s no way to hide how affected Magnus is, but he’s unembarrassed by how utterly into Alec he is.

Because every little noise Magnus makes, every shift of his hips and shudder of his body, adds another layer of lust to Alec’s gaze. Like Alec is turned on by the very idea of Magnus under him, of Magnus wanting this as much as he does.

Alec licks over his lips, wetting the bottom one, and Magnus tracks the movement greedily. The glisten of it is tantalizing, and Magnus’ mind floods with images of the same saliva-slick mess trailed down Alec’s chin as he blows Magnus. God, he _wants_.

Magnus tightens his legs and forces Alec downward, so the lines of their cocks rub together. He groans deep in his throat, more an exhale of relief, and chases for another spike of pleasure with the tilt of his hips. The rhythm is slow and unhurried, entirely different from yesterday, but no less passionate.

Alec is holding himself up above Magnus with his forearms on either side of his head, and it gives Magnus not only the perfect view of his ink, but the ability to reach them, too. Every time Alec moves, and especially when his hands clench at the sheets, the muscles in his forearm jump, and the ink with them. It’s _mesmerizing_.

He licks, just a small quick thing, over Alec’s bicep. There’s a bouquet of crystals there, splashed with vibrant watercolor, that he can’t peel his eyes from. “Do you have other tattoos?” Magnus asks breathlessly.

“You still don’t know for sure?” Alec teases. He chuckles and rolls his hips down. They both groan.

Magnus shivers as Alec grinds again. He loves the feeling of Alec cradled between his legs, how his hips feel under his inner thighs. He grumbles, “Amazingly, I haven’t seen you naked yet.”

He looks down the line of Alec’s body appreciatively. One day soon, he’s going to peel each article of clothing off Alec’s body with a certain deliberateness and then kiss every inch of skin he can reach. To pull Alec apart inch by inch and reduce him to moaning shambles. To worship, and push into every kiss just how much Magnus adores him.

It’s a slow unraveling today; neither he nor Alec are as on edge as they were yesterday, so it’ll take longer them to really sink into the mindless search for pleasure. And plus, Alec keeps the rhythm slow on purpose, patiently dragging Magnus into oblivion.  

He reaches down and pins Magnus’ hips with a hand, keeping him from bucking upwards. Despite the constant grind of their hips, deeper pleasure comes only when Alec decides it, and the experience is so intimate, Magnus feels like he could burn in it still.

Magnus grits his teeth, throwing his head back when Alec toys with a nipple, pinching and thumbing at it. And he still can’t move his hips more than a few inches. Alec is giving him nothing and everything at once, and god, Magnus could go crazy with it. Goddamn _tease_ of a man.

“Fuck, come _on,_ Alexander,” Magnus whines. “I want _more_ , I need it.”

Alec bends and kisses him, but he doesn’t stop the torturously unhurried tempo he’s established. Magnus whines against Alec’s lips, and shit, he could cry from this; he loves the way Alec kisses, like he’s trying to learn every inch of Magnus’ mouth. He wonders if Alec would do the same later and fuck Magnus like he’s trying to memorize his insides. God, he hopes so.

Normally, Magnus prefers dry humping with a single thigh slotted between his own, so he has something to ride for pressure, but the position they’re in, with Magnus spread so wide, lends itself to his imagination: Alec’s cock sliding between his cheeks and over the pucker of his hole, pushing in until he’s buried deep.

Right now, they’re not close enough together to lose themselves in each others’ bodies, unsure of where one ends and the other begins, but Magnus feels connected to Alec in ways previously unknown to him. The drag of their hips, now damp with precum, is enough to make Magnus tremble with lust, and below it, something still undefined.

“You’re so goddamn hot,” Alec pants, his breath against Magnus’ lips.  

Magnus can hardly take it. He pulls Alec down for another kiss, and again, for yet another. It’s wet but not overly filthy, as if they’re only making out on the sofa instead of descending into what will soon become a senseless rut to completion. Magnus feels like a teenager, unable to help himself from writhing under Alec, just seeking more pressure, more friction, more, more, _more_.

Alec can’t seem to pull his eyes away from Magnus’ face, the flush of his cheeks and glassiness of his eyes, at the way Magnus is worrying his bottom lip to bite back his louder moans. The storm that is Alec is bundled in his chest, tighter than he can handle.

And when Alec makes a little wrecked sound, thick and choked off almost as soon as it begins, Magnus can’t help his responding moan. A surge of lust spreads through him, the pressure building in his balls as Alec’s hips jerk involuntarily, abruptly disrupting their rhythm.

Once the pattern’s interrupted, there’s no getting back to it. Magnus’s legs tremble around Alec’s waist as he clenches around him tighter, wanting to pull Alec towards him, _into_ him, and Alec’s hips stutter again.

Magnus’ hands find Alec’s biceps, and he clutches until his fingers are white against the muscle. The tattoos makes him dizzy with desire, just the sight of them, the things that define Alec, the memories and experiences that make him the man Magnus is quickly falling for.  

“Yes, baby, _god_ ,” Alec moans. He nearly vibrates with it, and Magnus feels it in his bones.

He heaves a breathless gasp as Alec’s cock slides against his own, both rougher and wetter by the slick inside their briefs, and his hands clench around Alec’s arms. Spurred on by the way Magnus’ nails dig into his tattoos, Alec’s grip on his hip tightens hard enough to leave bruises. They’ll be a little sore later, and Magnus will prod at it and relish the sensitivity. Like a mark Alec has left on him. Yes, _please_.  

“I can’t wait for you to come in me,” pants Magnus. “Fuck me open and _mark_ me. God, like one of your tattoos, just make me yours, fuck me so well I feel it like a brand, permanently, Alexander. _Forever_.”

Fuck, what is he _saying_? Magnus is no stranger to dirty talk, but he can hardly believe how open he’s being right now about his baser desires. But Alec seems to be getting off on it, his eyes impossibly darker.

“Gonna leave my mark all over you,” groans Alec. And a singular, throaty “ _Please!_ ” escapes Magnus, almost unbidden.  

And then, a sight forever imprinted on the back of Magnus’ eyelids, something he couldn’t conjure on his most imaginative days: Alec reaching down and pulling his swollen cock from his briefs, tucking the waistband under his balls, and jerking himself, tight and fast and smooth. And Alec’s _face_ , the jerk of his hips when he reaches his peak, and his come, landing in stripes over Magnus’ abs, hot on his skin.

Magnus nearly comes right then and there, teetering precariously on the edge of his own climax. But Alec pulled away to finish himself off, and the loss of pressure keeps Magnus from going over. He whines, high in this throat, both needy and overwhelmed by how fucking _hot_ it is that he’s wearing Alec’s come.

“I’m so close,” he begs. “Alexander, my god.”

Alec’s been staring at his come on Magnus’ torso since coming down from his high, and he snaps out of it now, immediately aware of Magnus’ cock straining within his briefs. He slides down the bed, and Magnus has a brief moment to prepare himself for what’s coming before—

“Oh my _god!_ ” Magnus yells, his back arching off the bed. Alec pins his hips again and mouths at the outline of his cock, apparent with how hard Magnus is.

He doesn’t pull Magnus’ briefs down, choosing instead to suck through the fabric. It’s wet and sloppy and the material is soon soaked through by saliva and precum. The suction, though not on bare skin, is more than Magnus can take.

He’s already so close, so wrecked. And now there’s nothing left to do but allow himself to hit that peak, to shake apart under Alec’s hands and mouth. Magnus comes into his briefs in hot spurts, his mind blank and white with it, and he’s sure Alec can taste his come through the fabric because he doesn’t stop sucking long, open-mouthed kisses to the area.

When he comes down from it, all the tension in his body releases at once, and Magnus sinks into the bedspread, his limbs boneless and melted. He’s liquid, unable to muster even the slightest movement, and he peers down at Alec, who’s gazing up the line of his body with a smug grin.

Magnus heaves another breath and then looks back up, staring up at the ceiling. “Fuck,” he says. “How on earth did we get to _that_ from where this morning started?”

Alec crawls back up Magnus’ body, careful to avoid the mess on his stomach, and leans down for a small kiss, quiet and innocent, as if reaching for the lull of early morning. There’s no way they can get back to sleep, of course. Not with the come cooling on Magnus’ abs and in his briefs, and with the way Alec’s looking at him, too: adoring, satisfied, and in awe.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Alec offers, and Magnus nods with a smile.

He might doze off again when Alec disappears into the ensuite, but he isn’t sure if it’s just a pliant lassitude or actual rest. Still, he’s roused by a cool washcloth wiping at his abs, trailing over the grooves of them and along the top of the crease of his crotch.

Alec pauses when he gets to Magnus’ waistband. He looks back up, to where Magnus is watching him, and their eyes meet. At once, they both burst into quiet chuckles. “I think it’ll take more than a washcloth for this,” says Alec, gesturing at the general direction of Magnus’ crotch.

Magnus laughs, the air in his lungs is light and sunny. “I think I’ll hop in the shower.” He boosts himself up, leaning to kiss Alec’s cheek before swinging his legs over his side of the bed. “What time is it?”

Alec checks his phone, still on the nightstand, and makes a small noise of surprise. “It’s half-past 10,” he answers. “Guess I have to head out.”

Magnus rounds the bed, crowding into Alec for two more pecks. “Go get ready for Isabelle,” he says. “Put that Tupperware to good use.”

Alec barks a short, surprised laugh. “Is it still on the counter from yesterday?”

“I think so,” Magnus snickers.

With a beaming smile, Alec kisses Magnus another time, and then places another on his cheek. “I’ll see you later?” he asks, and Magnus nods. He turns to the door, then pauses. "Wait," he says, and pulls out his phone. "I don't think I have your number, weirdly enough. Let's do that, so we can text each other?" he asks. Magnus agrees, so they do. 

Finally, it's truly time for Alec to depart. Slowly, like there’s nothing he wants to do less, Alec steps back from Magnus and moves towards the door. Magnus watches him go with affection and attraction both, scanning the tattoo sleeves of his arms and on his back.

Before leaving, Alec peeks back with another smile, and Magnus blows him a playful kiss. There’s more to come, and he can’t wait: the frozen future unfurling one step at a time, ready for Magnus to bundle it in his arms. 


	4. Chapter 4

When Magnus eventually pulls himself out of bed, he finds himself pleasantly aching, his body tight with sleep but satisfied in a bone-deep way, like sore muscles after a workout. He’s begun more than one Saturday this way, but it feels like the first time. The way Alec had looked at him, the weight of his regard and the curve of his lips. Magnus feels giddy from it, and as he wanders into the bathroom, he imagines if Alec had taken a shower here first. His towel would be hanging next to Magnus’. Maybe they would shower together, flush in each other’s spaces.

He’s getting ahead of himself, and he knows it, but his heart feels wide open and ready for the future. Magnus wants to see Alec’s things sharing his space, a toothbrush in the holder next to Magnus’, or his deodorant and face wash next to the sink. 

They’re moving fast, but it’s more than casual, and they’ve known each other as neighbors and friends for half a year. Life moves fast, Magnus reasons. There’s no reason not to move with it. He doesn’t want to blink and miss it all. 

He takes a long time in the shower, longer than normal, getting the lingering musk of sex and sleep off his skin. It takes some scrubbing at his lips and face to get yesterday’s blowjob off him entirely. But he feels good when he steps out, the bathroom mirrors fogged with steam. This is usually the time he’s hit with the odd exhaustion after a random hook-up, when he can’t see his reflection and instead wonders if he looks as lonely as he feels. But today Magnus is only excited. Alec wants him, the same way, with the same intensity Magnus does. It isn’t casual for either of them, and he can’t help the smile that appears on his face. 

After a moment, Magnus ducks his head, embarrassed even in the confines of his own bathroom. God, he’s such a dolt, getting ahead of himself. He tries to control his smile, but he can’t stop thinking about Alec, and how welcoming and warm his arms had been, and how it had felt to wake up next to someone he likes. 

When Magnus returns to the bedroom, he hops on the bed still naked. He loves air-drying. He grabs his phone from the bedside table and opens his messages, thumbing through one or two things he can ignore until later. His messages with Catarina and Ragnor are silent, which is normal. Magnus is usually the one to send something innocuous and receive immediate messages back. He wonders how to explain everything. They know about Alec, the small crush Magnus has been harboring, but it feels almost disrespectful to present it as only a sex fugue he’s now stepping out of. It was more than that, to him. 

_ alec left, his sister is visiting so he gotta do that _ , he types, then adds:  _ but it was a rly good night. i had fun.  _ and after further consideration, because Catarina always worries, also types out,  _ & we both agreed it wasn’t casual so dw _

Catarina responds almost immediately, the early bird that she is. _ It was Alec you slept with last night? Like your neighbor Alec? And he stayed the night?  _

Magnus sighs. He knew it _. i JUST said it’s not casual! we talked abt it _

_ Magnus, are you sure? It’s been a day. I don’t want you to get ahead of yourself.  _

He bites his lip, then sends: _ ik. cat, he’s RLY good to me. always has been, y’know? i want to try with him and he likes me, so _

He watches as the grey bubble pops up, indicating she’s typing, and then disappears again. It takes a minute, but Catarina eventually settles on:  _ I’m happy for you. And excited! Be safe with everything, and I’d like to meet him at some point.  _

Magnus thumbs back:  _ thx! :--) _ , trusting that Ragnor will read the messages later and throw in his own opinion, probably positive. Both Catarina and Ragnor are both fans of letting Magnus do what he wants, make his own mistakes, and being there for him when he needs them, but he knows they worry anyway. It feels good to give them good news of this sort. He tosses his phone down, digs through his closet for some comfortable weekend clothes, and heads to the kitchen, passing by his front door to lock it on his way. 

The pans and plates from yesterday are still in his sink, and it feels weird to contemplate them now, thinking about the way he and Alec had smiled at each other over the table, their feet hooked around each other, pressed together at the ankles. Everywhere he looks, there are reminders of the night. He almost doesn’t want to clean it up, but eventually brings himself to, loading dishes into the dishwasher. 

It occurs to Magnus that he’s really wasting his time, unable to scrounge up a thought for what he should spend the day doing. His plans had originally been to laze around, maybe go shopping for that new side table he’s been wanting or get the weekend grocery trip out of the way. But nothing feels important. He wants to think about the way Alec’s smooth skin felt, and how the tattoos looked pressed up against Magnus, curled around his waist. He wants to imprint the memories on the inside of his eyelids. Needle them into his own brain. 

Magnus sighs, rolling his shoulders and looking around his apartment aimlessly for something to do. He could read a book, but he figures he’d just get distracted. It’s not fun to tamp down the fluttery feelings in his chest. He wants to bask in them, and roll around in them, and celebrate how he feels. It feels like he’s been holding his breath for ages, and now there’s this chance to take with Alec, and Magnus is on the precipice. He feels ready. 

On second thought, maybe this is getting too intense too quickly. Magnus also knows it’s not enough to assume everything will go well based on a single night and the few times Alec and he have hung out. He goes back to his bedroom to change into something more presentable, grabbing his phone on the way. 

He texts Raphael:  _ u wanna come furniture shopping with me?  _

His phone vibrates as he’s lining his eyes. Raphael has replied:  _ for the table _

_ yeah _ , Magnus texts back.  _ i wanna find one soon _

_ k _ , Raphael responds.  _ does 30 min work _

Magnus spares a moment, as he always does, to roll his eyes at Raphael’s use of “k”. Sometimes he wonders if Raphael knows where the question mark key even is. He texts back an affirmative, then fixes his hair, out the door in ten minutes. 

Two hours later, Magnus and Raphael are stepping out of the boutique furniture store they both prefer, frowning at the unusual lack of selection. 

“I can’t believe they didn’t have a single walnut-finished side table,” Magnus huffs. He wraps his coat more solidly around him, protection from a sudden gust of wind. 

Raphael eyes him. “You’re not normally so picky about what you want. Eclectic taste, and all, as you always say.” 

Magnus grimaces. Raphael has a point. Magnus’ taste ranges from one end of the spectrum to another, and the result is an apartment with a theme that he prefers to call “knick-knacky.” A theme that works because it’s so entirely not one. 

“I just want this day to be good,” he says. It might be a little irrational, but he can’t help but think of what it’d be like if he’d found the perfect side table, the perfect continuation to the evening and morning he’s had prior. 

“Don’t we all,” Raphael says dryly. 

“No, but like,” Magnus sighs, and feels the frustration with the furniture drain away. He’s still having a good time with Raphael, and despite his slight annoyances, it’s not like he absolutely needs a table today. He even knows more about what he wants. It’s just that he’d been feeling on top of the world, untouchable, and now he doesn’t, at least to the same degree. “Ugh, you’re right. I just have some things on my mind.” 

“Bad things?” Raphael asks, curious. Magnus still hasn’t told him about Alec.  

Magnus shakes his head. “Nah, it’s, uh, good things, actually. You know that neighbor of mine? Alec, who moved in a few months ago?” 

Raphael looks at him. “You mean the ‘hottie next door?’” 

“Ah,” says Magnus. He’d forgotten the months he spent referring to Alec as such, before they met officially. He clears his throat, and chuckles. “That’s the one. Well, we slept together last night. And this morning, and god, it was good.” 

Raphael’s eyebrows shoot upward. “Like… a casual one-time thing, or?” 

Magnus shakes his head, and can’t quite manage to bite back his grin. All remnants of his moodiness from before disappear. Forget about the table, or the fact that he’s already missing Alec; his feet are springy with it, his stomach bubbly. “Nah,” he says. “We’re going to give it a try. See where it goes.” 

“And I’m assuming you feel like that’s going to be a good place?” 

Magnus buries his face into his scarf a little, shy with how overwhelming the thought is. “Yeah,” he replies. His eyes crinkle. “I think it could.” 

Raphael smiles, softly, the way he does when he’s fond and suddenly reminiscent. “I’ve known you for a long time, Magnus, and I’ve never seen you quite like this.” 

“Maybe I’m thinking too far ahead,” says Magnus. He grimaces, a bit self-conscious. “I’ve been known to trip over my own feet.” 

Raphael nudges him. “Hey. You deserve someone good, Magnus. You’ve always been there for me, through everything. And it’s about time I return the favor, right? So no matter how it goes, you’ve got me. Us. I’m sure Cat and Ragnor’ll agree.” Raphael is always serious, and he never says what he doesn’t mean. Magnus really has surrounded himself with good people. He must be doing something right to get that, at least. 

Magnus links his arm through Raphael’s. “Thanks, my friend. You’re always so good to me.” He breaks into a small laugh. “Although everything you did for me after Camille has paid everything back in full, and in advance.” 

Raphael just looks at him and rolls his eyes a little. He maneuvers them to the left a bit, and when Magnus looks that way, he spots a bakery he knows Raphael is partial to. Their conchas are to die for, even Magnus can agree. 

“No such thing,” says Raphael. “There’s no ‘being even’ in our friendship, Magnus. You know it.” 

In ten years, Magnus could look back at this moment and still name it one of the happiest of his life. He feels like one of the luckiest people alive, to have such support and everything on the horizon. “Just for that, conchas are on me today.” 

“Why else did you think I brought us here?” Raphael grins at him sharply as he pulls open the door. The warm air and smell of baking and sugar hit Magnus like a wall, and he closes his eyes in delight. Maybe he’ll grab one for Alec, too. 

* * *

Later, after Magnus has been lazing around by the firepit on his balcony for a while, his phone buzzes on the table next to him.

_ Hi, it’s Alec. Izzy has cleared you to come over tonight after dinner, for a movie, _ the text reads. It’s from Alec. A second message follows soon after:  _ You want to join us?  _ And as if to betray Alec’s nervousness, a third, reading,  _ Casual, nothing big. Just a movie. You can meet Izzy too if you want. _

Magnus’ heart feels full-up and lodged halfway between his throat and his stomach, pushing against his lungs. He feels fiercely pleased that Alec is thinking of him and strongly enough too, to ask Isabelle about letting Magnus intrude. 

He thumbs over his screen for a second. He doesn’t want to be that person, and maybe sometimes it’s better to play it cool. He texts:  _ u sure u want me intruding on ur sibling night? _

_ You won’t be intruding! Isabelle says it’s fine,  _ comes Alec’s response. And then:  _ And I want to see you _

Magnus’ heart positively melts. He replies:  _ if you’re, i’d love to. i wanna see u too.  _ He adds a smiley face after a little bit of thought: why not? He’d like Alec to know how he feels. 

He has dinner plans with Cat and Ragnor this evening, and Magnus sends a quick text to inform them that he can’t spend the night the way they usually, meandering conversation that takes hours, flitting from one topic to another without much intent or regard for time. He’ll catch up with them in detail later. Maybe he’ll have something even more exciting to tell them after tonight. 

It isn’t long before Ragnor texts back, and Magnus frowns slightly when he reads it over:  _ let’s just skip today then. we do every weekend anyway, and you’ll be less annoying then, hopefully  _

_ HEY!  _ he texts back dramatically. Then sends:  _ but ok, i’ll see u guys next wknd. cat, that work? _

Magnus lounges around the apartment on his phone, scrolling down social media, seeing updates from old friends and coworkers: Dot, Jem, a few others. Everyone seems to be doing something today, but he’s content to just wait for the evening. 

Eventually Catarina, who Magnus thinks is on-call today, texts back an affirmative. After that, all Magnus can do is wait. He knows tonight isn’t going to end with sex or anything, with Isabelle over at Alec’s, but Magnus puts lip balm on. He’s definitely hoping for a kiss. 

Time passes too slowly for Magnus’ tastes, but he’s never been one to waste precious minutes idling. He picks out his clothes, fixes his hair, and adds a new stripe of dye just for the hell of it. He feels good by the time he changes into his outfit: a nice top and skinny jeans, shoes and a belt as accents, since the shoes will be coming off at the door. 

Magnus makes his way down the hall when Alec texts him that they’re free, and then he’s standing there, outside the door. The mat outside is slightly crooked, and Magnus adjusts it with his foot while he works up his courage. 

He knocks on the door, then tugs on his shirt, adjusting it, and wipes away invisible specks of dust. He can hear movement across the door, and bites back a wide smile. He doesn’t want to seem too eager, but it’s probably a lost cause. All the bubbling, fizzy feelings Magnus spent all day trying to ignore come roaring back. He yearns to be next to Alec, to see him again, and to feel the way they fit together. 

Magnus hears the lock clicking on the other side, then Alec appears as the door swings open. He looks as good as Magnus remembers: tall and handsome, wearing a snug t-shirt that shows off nearly every inch of his tattoo sleeves. 

Letting loose his grin, Magnus says, “Hi.” He sounds breathy, even to himself. He wonders if Alec feels the same, if there’s something in Alec that pulls the way Magnus does. If he feels the way Magnus feels. They kiss at the door, soft and long and sweet, and Magnus can’t help the way he leans into Alec, letting him take his weight. It’s a good kiss, like the ones they shared earlier but better, and when Magnus leans away, they’re both smiling. 

They probably would have stayed there grinning dopily at each other if not for Isabelle in the living room, who calls out to Alec, telling them to hurry up. At that, Magnus and Alec share a sheepish shrug and move into the apartment. 

When Magnus walks in after Alec, Isabelle was snuggling up in an armchair under a blanket, and a second is thrown over the sofa, where Magnus can see bare signs of being Alec’s usual spot: a creased pillow, a coffee mug on the table in front of it, and a pair of fuzzy slippers on the ground. 

“Hi!” calls Isabelle from the chair. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Isabelle, Alec’s sister.” She reaches an arm out from under her blanket and waves. Magnus is quick to note the similarities between her and Alec but also notices the differences. She smiles wider, quicker, than Alec does, but they have the same stern face. Even dressed down to lounge around, Isabelle looks great; good looks clearly run in the family. 

Magnus hopes his nervous smile seems sincere enough. It’s not that he doesn’t want to meet her; it’s just that, does she know that he and Alec slept together? Can she read it on him? Probably, from the stupid way he’s acting. God. “Nice to meet you too. Thanks for having me over,” he manages. 

“Just a Lightwood movie night,” says Isabelle dismissively. “As long as you like sci-fi movies, you’re all good.” 

“I love sci-fi,” Magnus says emphatically. He turns to Alec and waves his charger a little. “I’d like to plug in somewhere, if that’s cool?” 

Alec nods toward the kitchen. The apartment has the same floor plan as Magnus’, and it’s easy to find the outlet there. When he returns, Alec has settled on one side of the sofa, so Magnus takes the other. He doesn’t want to be presumptuous, even if he’d very much like to be. 

The movie is one Magnus hasn’t heard of, with aliens and humans and fighting, as per usual. But it’s entertaining and perfectly fit for a quiet night in. It isn’t long before Magnus notices that Alec keeps his apartment cooler than he does, and soon Magnus feels himself close to shivering a little. He curls up in a ball on the sofa. But of course, because Alec is an angel on Earth and the best of all men, he notices almost immediately. 

“Are you cold?” he whispers just loud enough to be heard. 

Magnus eyes the last blanket, haphazardly on Alec’s lap where it’d slipped from the sofa’s arm earlier. He doesn’t want to take it for himself. “No, I’m okay,” he says. He’s not, but he’ll survive. Maybe staring at Alec will warm him up enough. 

Alec shoots him an indulgent, dry smile and rolls his eyes slightly. “You’re cold,” he declares. 

He unfolds the blanket and throws it over the both of them, and Magnus is thrown suddenly into a reality where he’s sharing a blanket with Alec and the natural thing to do would be to cuddle closer to his side. He shifts slowly, only to realize that Alec is doing the same from his end. They meet in the middle, shoulders and arms brushing before their thighs meet, and that’s where Magnus settles into the couch, curling up for the long haul. 

The movie isn’t bad, but Magnus is honestly distracted by the warm pressure of Alec’s thigh against his, and how he can feel the hair on Alec’s arm brushing against his every time one of them moves. Magnus curls into his side, half-watching and half-staring blankly ahead, cataloging every one of Alec’s smells, the curve of his muscle, the jut of his bones. He doesn’t dare look over at Isabelle, although if she didn’t know about them before, she certainly would at least suspect now. 

Alec’s legs are pulled up, forming a tent in the blankets. It forms the perfect space for Magnus to be able to place a hand on his lower thigh, just to rest there. He loves the feel of Alec’s thighs: they’re thick and strong and corded with muscle, but still soft enough that when Magnus squeezes, they have some give. He’s been thinking since yesterday (and honestly earlier) about giving Alec a blowjob in bed, horizontally, resting his arms on Alec’s spread thighs as he let saliva run down his dick, slow and sloppy. 

It’s all he can think of now. He doesn’t realize his hand has skirted up Alec’s thigh a little until Alec’s sudden intake of breath. And  _ oh _ . Oh yes. Magnus’ concentration is shot. The aliens in the movies could be the good guys for all he knows. Alec is in sweatpants, and it’s easy to trail his fingers up and down his thighs, toward the inside. 

Isabelle is right there, and Magnus is very, very conscious of that fact. But Alec is, too, for the taking. He doesn’t go too far, but he gets daring after a bit, when Alec doesn’t say anything and Isabelle doesn’t notice. Magnus feels like a teenager again. There was this one time he and his then-girlfriend had sex with the door to her bedroom open and her parents downstairs. Their chastity check was being able to see the door open from downstairs, but they couldn’t see her bed, and she and Magnus took full and thorough advantage. They’d been quiet as possible but too horny to keep their hands to themselves, taken with the idea of  _ them _ and sex. 

It hadn’t even been thrilling yet then, the idea of getting caught, just a necessary evil to reach a specific end. But now, Magnus would be remiss to not admit that it tickles his fancy a little to think about pushing Alec so far that they get caught, to show him off, them off. It’s a possessive glee; he wants everyone to see that Alec is his, that he gets Alec. Fine, maybe not Isabelle. So definitely not now. But the idea lingers. 

Magnus teases his fingers up Alec’s thigh, dangerously close to the bulge of his cock, now more prominent than before. He can’t see what he’s doing, but stretches his pinky up and brushes just barely along the bottom of one of Alec’s balls. It’s hard to tell exactly what’s going on with the sweatpants in the way, and Magnus isn’t daring enough to pull them down right now. So eventually he goes back to just stroking Alec’s thigh. 

It occurs to him suddenly, as he traces unintelligible patterns over Alec’s leg, that he doesn’t know if Alec has tattoos on his thigh yet. There might be something covered by his boxers. Magnus bites his lip, pressing down hard, as if to feel the ink simply by applying enough pressure. He wants Alec to get up and throw him down and spread his legs, right now. He wants to see. Magnus’ mouth goes dry at the thought. 

Still, Alec doesn’t move away. If anything, he shifts downward on the couch a little, so his hips are even more hidden under the tent of his knees. His shoulder presses against Magnus’ and he doesn’t make any sound beyond a heaving breath that gets lost in the explosions and booms of the movie’s action. 

Magnus strays a little higher, palming over the now half-hard bulge in Alec’s pants lightly. Alec lets go of a small, involuntary whine, and Magnus is quick to shush him gently. He glances over, and Alec is staring in the direction of the television with glazed eyes. He’s worrying his bottom lip a little bit, trying to keep noises in. 

It continues on and off for the rest of the movie. Magnus doesn’t go too far ever, just the brush of the back of his knuckles over Alec’s half-chub or squeezing his upper thigh. Most of the time, his hand is resting plainly closer to Alec’s knee. But he can still tell that Alec is frustrated in the good way, like he wants nothing more than to break and put Magnus on his knees. God, Magnus would welcome it. He’s not unaffected himself. 

When the movie is finished, they’re both tightly coiled and tense, glancing at each other on and off, wondering what the next move is. Magnus’ pants are tight, and he vaguely hates himself for wearing skinny jeans. It’s only Isabelle, who stretches widely and yawns big, who makes them break apart. 

Magnus looks at Alec with heavy-lidded eyes. He wants nothing more than to drag Alec to the bedroom right now and feel those thighs around his waist. But he should go, probably. “I should go,” he makes himself say. Alec looks startled, but after a moment, his expression settles on resigned. He wants Magnus to stay too. But he shouldn’t. He slips out from under the blanket, graciously leaving it to cover Alec’s lap. “It was nice meeting you, Isabelle.” 

Isabelle waves from her armchair. “It was great to meet you, Magnus. Thanks for the container for my food, too.” 

Magnus laughs. He’d nearly forgotten. So much has happened in just a single day. Alec follows him into the kitchen when Magnus announces his need to grab his phone. Magnus is very happy that his boner isn’t obvious in his pants, whether or not he was cursing them earlier for being tight. He waddles as cleanly as he can, sensing Alec at his back with every step. It feels silly to get thrilled from Alec simply walking with him as he leaves, as if that isn’t something any polite person would do, but it’s the presence he feels that strikes Magnus deep. He wants Alec to push him up against the wall and kiss him deep, tangle his fingers in his hair and pull to hear him gasp. 

Magnus finds his phone on the counter and unplugs it. The screen lights up; it’s late, but not too late. Probably, he’ll have time to enjoy a soak in the bath before sleeping, and even more likely, he’ll get himself off, too. He’s a little lost thinking of it, so Magnus isn’t not expecting it when Alec crowds him up against the counter, his body pressed against his back. He doesn’t feel small very often, but Alec seems to bracket him, his hands on the counter on either side of Magnus’ hips, tight and white-knuckled.

“God, you drive me insane,” Alec says. His voice is breathy and hot where he’s breathing against Magnus’ neck. He takes the heat in the room from fifty to one-hundred in a matter of seconds, and Magnus feels himself go molten. Alec leans in an inch more and licks over the knob at the top of Magnus’ spine. 

Magnus shudders, his knees weak. His heart is pounding, the rest of his body is throbbing. Every thought of his becomes unintelligible even to himself as Alec applies the barest hint of teeth, biting until Magnus can feel the pressure and then letting off. It doesn’t hurt or anything, but it feels like Alec is barely holding himself back, and the thought hooks into every one of Magnus’ weaknesses. That Alec might snap and just take him, bend him over the counter, show him how much Magnus belongs to him. 

Alec is willfully denying him, Magnus realizes after a moment. Teasing him. His hands are next to his hips but not on them, and Magnus can just imagine the tight grip there, how Alec’s hands would tighten when Magnus grinds backwards. He wants it, wants to feel it, his whole body yearning for it. He wants the taste of Alec in his mouth again, he wants that passion and fervor, the hot warmth of Alec’s mouth, the pressure of his dick against Magnus’ body. 

“Alec,” he whimpers, barely more than a strangled gasp. “C’mon.” 

“‘C’mon?’” Alec repeats, humor in his voice. He’s definitely teasing now, pressing soft kisses over the skin of Magnus’ nape, which he knows is sensitive. “After everything you’ve put me through, you say, ‘C’mon’? I can’t let you get away with that, Magnus.” 

Magnus’ knees honest-to-god nearly buckle right there. It sends a thrill down his spine to think of affecting Alec that way, that Magnus could do that to him. He feels flush with want, tingling down in his toes, and his dick is halfway chubbed up already. 

“Yeah, that’s right,” says Alec, a low hum of a purr. He pulls away from Magnus, and Magnus feels the loss acutely, the warmth bracketing him gone, and even though Alec wasn’t even touching, something holding him up weakened. He could drop to his knees right now and worship Alec, his feet, his cock. 

But Alec doesn’t give him that. He leans against the counter next to Magnus, close but not touching  _ still _ . To an outside observer, it would look completely casual, but Magnus has only seen the look in his eyes one other time, when he was fucking Magnus’ mouth and coming all over his face. Magnus doesn’t know what he looks like now, but it must be something wild with want and stricken, from the way Alec’s eyes go even heavier, darker. The tension between them is palpable, and Magnus is almost scared to reach out and see what would happen if he touched Alec right now. He’d spontaneously combust, probably. 

“You’re driving me crazy,” complains Magnus, breath caught in his throat. He doesn’t mean to sound so thrilled about it, but Alec seems to have that effect. “I don’t think I planned this correctly.” 

Alec laughs and rolls his shoulders once. The effect is devastating: his tattoos rippling along his arms, the strong broad frame of him, the confidence exuding from a small smile. Magnus’ lungs fill with anticipation. 

When Alec speaks, his voice is quiet, husky and low, the kind of tone Magnus wants pressed against the base of his jaw and his throat, vibrating through his body in full. Alec leans in, chin on his fist and elbow resting on the counter. He’s only an inch or two taller than Magnus, but the pose gives Magnus the perfect view of his tattoos on the flex of his bicep. “You better,” he says. “You’re gonna pay for today.” Alec, Magnus notes now, knows how to play dirty. “The things you do to me, the things you make me want to do to you. Oh, and I have ideas, Magnus. Those lips on you, the way they looked wrapped around me. I want to fuck you ‘til you’re begging me to let you come. I wanna do it everywhere. Would you like that? On the couch, just bend you over the back of it? Jerk you under the blanket and make you lick the mess you make off my hand?” 

“Alec, Jesus,” Magnus manages, eyes wide. His blood feels hot and centered in his groin, lust thick and coursing through him. “God, you don’t even know.” 

“Yeah?” says Alec. He licks his lips, the barest peek of pink. Magnus flushes, swollen with an indescribable feeling. “You’d like that? I wanna be inside you, Magnus, stuff you full of dick over and over. Feed you my come, like yesterday, mark you up and make you mine.” Alec’s smile looks wicked when he looks Magnus over, top to bottom, like he’s planning all the ways he’d bend Magnus in half and fuck him cross-eyed. 

“Oh my god,” says Magnus faintly. “I need you in me  _ yesterday _ .” 

Alec reaches his hand out and carefully overlaps Magnus’ thumb with his index finger, just subtle enough for it to be casual still, and strokes over it softly. Every nerve in Magnus’ body feels centered there, receptive to anything Alec will give him. He can’t believe himself, how aware he is of a bare inch of skin. He’s leaking precome into his briefs, sticky and wet, and feels seconds from overwhelmed entirely. Magnus feels like he could come like this, from Alec’s voice alone and the most unassuming touch Magnus has ever been turned on from. “And your dick, Magnus. I want to ride you, or for you to make me take it.” 

Magnus shivers and bites his lip to keep a soft moan from escaping. His heart is racing like he’s just run a mile nonstop. He can’t get enough air. Magnus feels blown wide open, desire on display for Alec to consume and stoke. Every ember of lust he’s felt for Alec is fully aflame now. He turns his hand over and holds Alec’s hand, finding it hot and slightly balmy. He runs his finger over Alec’s palm and wrist, stroking over the skin, the edge of his tattoo sleeve. 

“You’re killing me,” says Magnus, the barest whisper. Alec smiles widely. Magnus’ heart is thumping wildly. He’s leaning in, and he can see it happen: Alec is going to kiss him, and it’s going to be sweet and good. Magnus keeps his eyes open; he wants to see when Alec’s flutter shut. 

They hear the clatter in the living room simultaneously, and both Alec and Magnus turn toward the noise. It’s Isabelle, having knocked the TV remote onto the hardwood flooring, and they catch her trying to pick it up without disturbing them, but she only drops it again. 

“Sorry, sorry,” she says, hair flying when she dramatically stands up straight, as if she hadn’t just been fumbling with the remote. Magnus bites back a chuckle as Alec laughs openly. 

“It’s okay,” Alec says. He turns back to Magnus for a second, and the heaviness of his gaze says its anything but. 

Magnus doesn’t want to intrude on their sibling night any more than he has. He knows relationships like these need early boundaries or they’ll flame up fast and burn out quick. And he definitely doesn’t want that to be the case here. He’d gotten up to take his leave anyway. He’s about to make his excuses when Isabelle makes a small hm sound. She doesn’t approach them, for which Magnus is grateful, because he thinks she’d be able to cut the sexual tension in the room with a butter knife, but she looks between them in contemplation. 

“So,” she says. “One question: are you guys dating?” 

“Not yet,” says Magnus, and the same time Alec says, “Yes.” 

They freeze and look at each other wildly, a little shocked. Magnus’ heart thuds violently in his chest. He should have said yes, but he hadn’t wanted to scare Alec away, and plus they  _ aren’t _ dating. Before either of them has time to react, Isabelle continues. “Second question: don’t you think you should figure that out?” 

“Yeah,” Alec says, and Magnus repeats him with a murmur, stung. 

“Magnus, sorry,” Isabelle says. “Maybe that was rude of me. I’m not trying to be mean. But you guys should talk to each other. If it’s worth anything though, it really was nice to meet you today. And plus, I think Alec is really into you.”  

Magnus’ tentative, weak smile grows a little. He can’t help himself when Alec is mentioned. “It was nice meeting you Isabelle. And you’re right. We’ll talk about it.” The implications of the fact that Alec considered them to be dating already were mindblowing. He didn’t have the cognitive function to think about it. 

“We’ll go on a date,” Alec jumps in, before Isabelle can say anything else. Magnus turns to look at him, barely noticing Isabelle slipping away quietly in his periphery. Alec speaks quickly, like he doesn't want to be interrupted. “Let’s go on a date, if you want, Magnus. Like a real one: dinner at a restaurant, and we’ll dress nice and it won’t just be spontaneous. It’ll be planned. On Wednesday, if you’re free?” 

Magnus feels buoyant, so light he could float away. The weight in his gut evaporates and his heart resumes its usual Alec-adjacent pace, quicker than normal but not thudding to his doom. “Yes. Yes, please, Alec. I'd like that. I’m free that night, after work. I can do 7?” 

“That’s perfect,” says Alec. Pink has bloomed fully on his cheeks, mottling his ears too. It’s adorable, and Magnus barely resists the urge to reach out and pinch one. That’s a second date sort of thing. “I’ll text you, and we can decide on a place.” 

“Of course,” says Magnus immediately. “I can't wait. I want everything with you,” he says, and he means so much more than what he’s probably conveying. “I do. What you were saying earlier, all of that. And the date, too. All of it.” Magnus feels full of the future. He wants to know the ways Alec is and the reasons why. If he had the chance, he thinks he could see him, beyond the stories he’s already told in ink. He can’t help the flush of his cheeks or the smile overtaking his face, but Magnus tries to dial it down a little. Sex, he knows how to handle. “But you know, right now I’m going home, and I’m gonna jerk it to you. I’m gonna think of you, your hands. Your mouth.” 

Alec takes a short breath and presses his lips together. This probably looks the opposite of innocent to any bystanders; Magnus really hopes Isabelle isn’t watching them. “God,” Alec whispers, almost to himself. “You’re filthy, Magnus. You’re so unfair.” 

“I’m unfair?” Magnus protests. “You’re the one who was telling me how you wanted to be inside me just a few minutes ago.” 

“I do,” says Alec, and it sounds like a promise. “We’re gonna do that, okay?” Despite how in-control Alec seems, there’s a steady blush creeping up his neck and blooming across his cheeks. It satisfies an instinctual desire in Magnus, that he’s not the only one in this. “Just, after Wednesday, if it goes well.” 

“Yeah,” says Magnus, because every attempt of his to redirect this to something more manageable, the sex side of things, has failed. Maybe being scared isn’t all bad, then. He can’t form words. He wants their date to go so well, and he’s got butterflies in his stomach about it. Magnus reaches out and thumbs at the hem of Alec’s shirt, then grips it tightly and pulls him in. He waits halfway for Alec to close the distance between them, and Alec doesn’t disappoint. When his lips touch Magnus’, Magnus nearly moans in relief. He’s been waiting for ages, it feels like. It’s chaste, because this is only a parting good night’s kiss, but Magnus chases after it anyway when they part, dipping in for a second press of lips, then a third. “Okay,” he says finally, when they part. “I think that’ll tide me over.” 

“Until you get behind closed doors?” Alec asks dryly. “You’re evil.” 

Magnus shoots him a grin. “Until Wednesday. I still have to get through the week, you know.” 

At that, Alec seems to pause then and contemplate Magnus, and Magnus wonders what Alec is thinking, whether it has something to do with the things beyond sex and desire, that when Magnus had said  _ everything _ , had left unspoken but present still. Alec’s eyes turn kind and gentle. “Okay, time for you to go?” he asks. 

Magnus looks at the whole length of him right back and feels something settle. The spark between them has been realized, and Magnus feels fuller for it. “Yeah,” Magnus confirms ruefully. He wouldn’t leave if he didn’t have to, but he knows well enough, has thought enough today, about the risks of getting ahead of himself. 

Alec walks Magnus to the door, a warm hand on the small of his back. To the side, Magnus sees Isabelle darting from what’s presumably a bathroom to the bedroom, and he calls out a goodbye. “It was nice meeting you Isabelle!” and she responds in kind. 

At the door, Magnus turns back to Alec. He smiles at him, aching with the tingling nervousness-slash-excitement of something new and fresh and growing. Magnus wishes for a way to explain how much he adores Alec, and what it means to him that they’ve come together to at least try. 

“Text me, okay?” says Alec. “We’ll have our date. We’ll do this right.” 

Magnus grins. He would probably cancel a meeting with every world leader to make this date. His imagination is already brimming at the prospect of it: Alec cleaning up nice, as Magnus knows he does, but for  _ him _ , discussing the menu over drinks, small talk and bedroom eyes as they wait, linking their feet together under the table, and going home with Alec afterwards. Maybe he’d walk Alec to his door. Maybe he’d go in. 

Still, he doesn’t want to jinx anything, so Magnus stamps his wandering thoughts down for now. It can wait until he gets home. 

“I can’t wait,” says Magnus. He brushes invisible dirt off Alec’s shirt, just to touch and feel the warmth of him. 

Alec’s smile is blinding, eyes crinkling, then he bites his bottom lip, like he’s trying not to be too obvious. He reaches out a hand and wraps it around Magnus’ wrist, but doesn’t make any move to pull him closer. They just stand there for a second, Magnus looking up at him with an inexorable smile and flush on his cheeks. He feels unspooled and like the world around them has slowed. 

Finally, Alec lets him go, and Magnus wanders down the hallway, thinking of both everything and nothing at once. He doesn’t turn around because he doesn’t think he’d end up at home if he did, so he doesn’t know if Alec is still watching. Still, he bites his lip in the privacy of being turned away from Alec’s doorway, and as his heart thumps wildly, Magnus thinks:  _ Maybe _ . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dw alec and magnus will fuck in the next chapter probs

**Author's Note:**

> [/apartmented on tumblr](http://apartmented.tumblr.com)   
>  [@inviq on twitter](http://twitter.com/inviq)   
>  [comms](https://apartmented.tumblr.com/commissions)
> 
> cheers


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